


Only Human

by SBG



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-27
Updated: 2003-10-27
Packaged: 2018-10-06 13:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10335764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBG/pseuds/SBG
Summary: Spoilers: "FiaD", Point of View", "Cor-ai"Summary: Daniel and Teal’c are forced to delve into the unresolved issuesthat have sprung up between them after the death of Sha’uri





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Trudging through the rough, rocky terrain back to the Stargate, Jack looked around at his team. All of their faces were downcast and somber, indicative of the grim atmosphere that had seemed to envelope SG1 lately. It had been a tough couple of months, tumultuous in negative events. 

Daniel had been slowing retreating into himself, painfully reminding Jack of his own state of mind after Charlie’s death. He shuddered at the reminder of the total emptiness that had nearly replaced his soul. He didn’t want that for Daniel. Didn’t want that for anyone. It scared him more than he was willing to outwardly admit that the archaeologist seemed to be traveling swiftly down that path. It had been a long time since Jack had looked at his friend and seen anything other than an artifice of calm, a face masked in acceptance and normality. The eyes always gave Daniel away – once alight with hope and curiosity, they now reflected darkness.

The younger man wasn’t the only one in danger of that scenario. Teal’c had also become more reserved than usual. Jack nearly laughed out loud at that – with the Jaffa, it was difficult to actually determine a change in mood. Over the past couple of years, though, it had become easier. Teal’c was clearly wrapped in guilt for his role in Sha’uri’s death, so much so that Jack worried his friend might never be able to find inner balance again. That he could see evidence of such was enough of an indication that he should be worried. 

And then there was Carter. Jack couldn’t read her nearly as well as Daniel and Teal’c, a fact he was both uncomfortable with and relieved by. As his 2IC, she was invaluable and he wouldn’t refute that but he always had the vague feeling there was more going on in her head than she wanted to share with him. Despite his inability to gauge her emotions, he sensed she had not fully recovered from seeing her alternate reality self such a short time ago. He shuddered, unsure if he _himself_ had fully recovered from that experience. It had been…surreal. And awkward. Even so, that twisted, wacky experience couldn’t compare to what Daniel and Teal’c were living through.

No, things had not been smooth sailing for SG1, not by a far shot. The mental states of his team members were frustratingly out of his control, as much as he wanted to aid them in the journeys they had to respectively take on their own. One thing he always tried to do, though, was to lighten the mood whenever opportunity presented itself, as if levity would really make the Bad Stuff disappear. A futile tactic, he knew, but he couldn’t stop himself. Especially not today, as the opportunities had abounded more readily than mosquitoes in Minnesota during the summertime. 

"So, Daniel. Tell me." Jack didn’t even bother keeping the lilt out of his voice. In fact, he upped it. "Those curiously shaped rocks? What were they supposed to be again?"

"Jack, you know very well on the UAV readings they appeared to be ruins of a civilization," Daniel answered shortly.

"Okay, just checking. ‘Cause they just looked like a bunch of big rocks to me," he innocently commented.

"Jack, give me a break! I’m sorry this mission was a monumental waste of time. I’m sorry we had to walk ten miles for nothing. All right?" Daniel spat, his face clearly broadcasting irritation at Jack’s teasing.

Jack contemplated halting his provocation for about a millisecond before thinking about listing several ailments…sore feet, aching back…to harass Daniel some more. He’d had so few opportunities to do that lately, hadn’t felt comfortable employing his method of therapy for the younger man’s benefit. Daniel responding so vehemently was a good sign. A mischievous grin spread like wildfire across his face. They had at least seven miles back to the ‘gate. Seven miles of tormenting his favorite archaeologist. What could possibly be better rehabilitation for his team? The banter might irritate them but he knew that, deep down, they enjoyed it.

"And why aren’t you bothering Sam about it? She analyzed the UAV readings with me, you know," Daniel continued his complaints.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack caught the good major shooting Daniel a fierce glare. Ooh, if looks could kill, Daniel would be a dead man. Cliché that might be, but he’d been on the receiving end of a few of Carter’s disparaging looks before and considered himself lucky to still be alive. Come to think of it, he’d got the exact same look from Sara. And Doctor Fraiser. And that woman who worked at Sergeant Davis’ post on occasion. Must be a female thing. 

Jack had to admit Daniel made a valid point. Ahh, seven miles of antagonizing his favorite archaeologist _and_ his favorite astrophysicist. That was definitely better than hassling only Daniel. Grinning, he felt immensely better about his team, worry notching down a bit in the hopes they were finally on the road to recovery. He curiously eyed the last member of his team, wondering if he could finagle a way to include Teal’c in the fun…

"Actually, I was just coming to that, Daniel. Patience, grasshopper," Jack chided in a tone he knew was infuriating to the younger man. "Carter? Any scientific explanations?"

Casting Daniel one final chilly stare, Carter answered, "I can’t explain it, sir. The UAV images were clear. Those should have been the remains of structures. I just don’t understand."

"C’mon, Carter! You’re seriously going to tell me the UAV somehow malfunctioned so bad it gave us completely incorrect information and sent us on this wild goose chase?" Jack loudly griped and waited for her to respond.

"No, of course not, sir! At least I don’t think."

"Feeling a bit wishy-washy today, Carter?" 

He knew he was pushing the ribbing session a bit too far but honestly couldn’t help himself sometimes, easily letting himself get lost in his own mirth. Hey, if anything, at least he was getting everyone else’s minds off heavier topics. Amazingly enough, if he kept telling himself that, the hesitation seemed to evaporate. He watched as Carter’s face contorted and turned a beautiful shade of pink. Oh, this was _so_ worth it. Backing Daniel into a corner was a rare enough feat, but to reduce the major to stutters was an ultimate achievement. Sadly, his good time was cut short by the intruding and ever solemn voice of Teal’c.

"O’Neill, I do not believe there are any wild geese here to chase. Is there a purpose to this discussion? It would seem neither Daniel Jackson nor Major Carter are at fault for the UAV’s incorrect data or the distance of the ruins from the Stargate."

Now it was Jack’s turn to glare. 

"I’m not saying they’re at fault, Teal’c."

"Huh. Could have fooled me," Daniel muttered. "If you shook your finger at us any harder it would be in danger of falling right off."

Carter snorted her agreement. Wait, how had his fun turned against him so quickly? Teal’c. The Jaffa had waved the ‘I’m a stranger in a strange land’ flag way longer than he had probably needed it. Jack had no doubt Teal’c had a full grasp on human customs and behaviors, knew what he was trying to do and apparently didn’t agree with his methodology. What a wet blanket. What a really rough time the big warrior must really be having. Sobering slightly, he clenched his jaw to contain the resurging concern.

And then said wet blanket came to a sudden stop directly in front of Jack, swatting his neck. Unable to halt his own forward movement, he plowed into the large Jaffa, gracelessly bounced off Teal’c and landed with a grunt on his butt. He fumbled around on the ground for a few seconds, attempting to salvage his dignity. Muffled chortles from the two youngest team members indicated he might as well give up that idea.

"Teal’c! What the hell did you stop for?" Jack grumbled as he rose, rubbing a cheekbone sore from the impact. He turned to his companion quizzically. Teal’c stood slightly slouched with an odd expression on his face. Odd was _never_ a good thing. "Teal’c? What’s going on?"

Carter and Daniel stopped laughing at him and moved to either side of Teal’c, concern replacing amusement so quickly Jack was surprised he didn’t hear a snap or something.

"Teal’c?" Sam asked urgently, sounding nervous at the Jaffa’s lack of response. 

She reached out a hand and laid it on the big man’s shoulder carefully. To Jack’s shock, Teal’c visibly flinched. What the hell? Oh, this wasn’t good.

"Teal’c!" Jack called out again, louder this time. To his relief, Teal’c finally reacted.

"O’Neill, I believe we should leave this place immediately. I feel…" 

"What? What do you feel, Teal’c?" Carter asked.

Turning a dazed face to Carter, Teal’c looked puzzled. "I do not know. I am suddenly unable to feel the presence of my symbiote."

"But it’s still there, right?" Daniel asked, a disturbed frown plastered on his face.

"Where the hell would it go, Daniel? Maybe Junior’s just taking a nap?" 

"No. This is very uncomfortable. I do not know…" Teal’c stopped speaking again, apparently at a loss for words.

"Teal’c, besides not being able to feel Junior, is there anything else wrong? Any other weird sensations?" Jack prodded. He had a bad feeling about this.

"No. Physically, I am fine." 

Teal’c still appeared startled by whatever was going on inside him and he had to wonder if the other man was telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Jack scrutinized the big man. His friend didn’t look any the worse for wear, but if Teal’c voiced concern over something he listened. If he said they should vamoose, then vamoose they should. If there were physical problems, he was sure Teal’c would tell them when it was appropriate. To the Jaffa’s estimation, anyway. As far as he himself was concerned, it was appropriate now. He had to trust his friend to tell them, in his own time. Browbeating was not his style, at least not with his team. 

"Okay then, kids, let’s get going. I’m sure Doc Fraiser will really love this one."

Teal’c protectively wrapped an arm over his midsection and began walking again. Daniel took up occupancy next to him, jogging to keep up with the Jaffa’s long strides while he and Carter trailed behind them several meters. The archaeologist studied Teal’c’s face closely and Jack shook his head. Daniel probably thought this was extremely fascinating. A part of him was gladdened to see the spark of his friend’s old self making an appearance at long last, but he was mostly irritated at the clinical approach the younger man used for interacting with Teal’c. There was still so much discomfort between the two that it sometimes actually hurt to witness.

"Teal’c, is this like when we were, uh, copied by Harlan? Can you sense anything from the larva, or is it just gone?" Daniel asked.

"For crying out loud, Daniel! He said he can’t feel it, so he can’t feel it!" Jack shouted, surprising himself with the ire projected in his voice. 

He hadn’t meant to unleash that, and it was obviously the result of his agitation. Shooting him a baffled, somewhat hurt look, Daniel crinkled his eyebrows and made Jack feel like an asshole.

"It is simply gone, Daniel Jackson. I have vague memories of my life before I received my primta, but I would estimate I feel the same way now as I did as a child," Teal’c calmly explained as if Jack hadn’t just yelled, apparently not perturbed by Daniel’s question. 

The archaeologist relaxed enough to give a bare smile, probably picturing Teal’c as a boy. At least that’s what Jack was trying to do. He found it quite a difficult image to project.

"Interesting. I wonder what’s causing it? Something in the air? Sam, what do you think?" 

Daniel turned around, walking backward as he waited for her response.

"MALP and UAV readings indicated an almost identical atmospheric match to Earth’s. No strange chemicals or particles in the air at all," Carter sounded perplexed. She spoke about a million words a minute, physical evidence of how quickly her brain was working. "Teal’c, you said it happened all of a sudden? There weren’t any warning signals? Your larval Goa’uld wasn’t agitated prior to its…disappearance?"

"There was no indication or distress. I simply can no longer feel it," Teal’c abruptly burst.

Whoa. Jack raised his eyebrows and glanced over at Carter. Teal’c sounded a bit irritable to him, and his 2IC’s startled face confirmed Teal’c’s response was noticeably out of character. Daniel, still walking backward, stared incredulously at Teal’c. If Jack weren’t so concerned about the Jaffa, he would have wished for a camera. Both scientists’ mouths gaped opened stupidly, a sight not often seen. But the moment didn’t last. Daniel emitted a yelp as he suddenly tripped over a tree branch, solidly planting himself on the ground. The resultant thump was accompanied by rustling of grass, leaves, and, he thought, a muttered curse. Jack laughed at his young friend’s flustered face when Daniel finally managed to sit up. 

"Well, you lasted longer going backward than I’d have bet. You should keep your eyes forward, Daniel."

"Yeah, yeah." Daniel shrugged off Jack’s teasing and stretched out his right hand. "Give me a hand, will you, Teal’c?" 

Teal’c leaned down, grasped Daniel’s hand in his own and pulled him up with a slight groan. His face uncharacteristically scrunched into a frown, eyebrows furrowed tightly. "Daniel Jackson, have you increased your body mass?"

Jack couldn’t prevent a bark of laughter from emitting, and heard the major likewise struggle. Indignant, Daniel scorched him and Carter a glower at their chuckles. Brushing off his backside, he answered Teal’c somewhat defensively, "Uhm, no I haven’t, Teal’c. Why, do I feel heavier?"

"It took more effort to raise you up than usual, that is all."

"Daniel, maybe you’d better lay off the chocolate; you are looking a little thick around the middle," Jack teased, happy for the new opportunity to ruffle Daniel’s feathers.

"Shut up, Jack. I _could_ mention the middle aged spread you’re starting to display," Daniel shot back.

Jack rolled his eyes. It wasn’t so long ago Daniel would have taken his teasing without rebuttal and he had to admit it was great to see the scientist rising to the bait. Actually, it increased the enjoyment considerably. The archaeologist’s abnormally quietude these past couple of weeks had been almost as hard on the rest of SG1 as the young man himself. Since Sha’uri’s death, Jack corrected himself. _Almost_ as hard. God, a widower at thirty-four.

Sobering again, Jack watched Daniel brush off his butt. The younger man hadn’t gained any weight. In fact, he looked thinner than Jack had ever seen him, something he hadn’t really noticed until just now. No, he’d seen it; he’d just blamed it on that damned short haircut. It wasn’t a valid excuse. The fact of the matter was that Daniel likely wasn’t eating properly. Which made Teal’c’s little problem…hmm, odd. With a frown, he automatically looked to the Jaffa. Teal’c was sweating and seemed out of breath, though they were traveling at an easy pace, hadn’t gone far and Daniel was light enough even Carter wouldn’t have a problem hoisting him. 

"Teal’c, you feeling all right?" Jack cautiously asked. "You look a little tired."

"I am fine, O’Neill," Teal’c solemnly answered, turning his back and beginning the trek again.

He just stood for a moment, watching Teal’c and Daniel continue on. Daniel darted frequent looks to his walking companion, concern evident on his face. Jack should have been heartened by the increased interaction between the pair but the sense that there was something not right here overshadowed anything remotely positive in the situation. He concluded that Teal’c was right, they needed to get off this rock fast. A hand on his forearm snapped him out of his reverie. 

Carter gazed up at him, quietly asking, "Sir, what do you think’s going on with Teal’c? He’s acting really strange."

"I don’t know, Carter. I think we need to keep a close eye on him, though. He doesn’t look well. Did you notice he’s worked up a sweat? We haven’t even gone a quarter of a mile. I just don’t like this." 

Jack ran a hand through his graying hair. He didn’t like this one little bit. At all. A fluttering, nervous sensation started in his belly, a warning sign. Something.

"Yeah, I noticed, sir. When he helped Daniel up it looked like it actually took effort. Usually Teal’c doesn’t have a problem with _anyone’s_ weight, let alone Daniel’s," Carter softly said, unconsciously confirming what he had thought.

"We should catch up with them," Jack stated with a jerk of his head. Catch up and hustle back to the ‘gate.

The them in question were about a hundred and fifty feet ahead already. Daniel anxiously peered back at them, urging them forward. He and Carter hadn’t gone five steps when, out of nowhere, four huge Jaffa appeared, surrounding Teal’c.

"Hey!" Jack stupidly yelled, muscles tensing as he jerked into a run.

He watched as Teal’c brought his staff weapon about in defense, but one of the Jaffa easily wrenched it out of his hands while another brutally wrapped his arm around his team member’s throat. His heart tripped a beat at Teal’c’s easy defeat and he picked up his pace. Daniel lunged toward Teal’c to give what aid he could, and Jack opened his mouth to tell Daniel to run like hell even though he knew the archaeologist would do no such thing. The other two Jaffa tackled the younger man to the ground, seemingly without effort.

Raising his MP5, Jack ran to his friends but was unable to get a clear shot at their attackers. Everything was happening all at once, in slow motion and too, too fast. Daniel struggled against the huge men on top of him, fumbling for his knife. He saw the archaeologist’s hand clasp around it and bring it around, jerking his hand toward one of the Jaffa. A loud roar told him that Daniel had connected with something, and he saw one of the Jaffa fall to the ground. Jack wanted to crow at Daniel’s success but his elation was very short lived. The other Jaffa pulled the knife from his fallen companion and arched it toward Daniel, plunging it violently into the young man’s thigh. Daniel screamed in agony before going scarily limp.

Eyes reluctantly leaving his downed team member to rest upon Teal’c, the sight they provided him wasn’t any better. Teal’c was still weakly fighting the chokehold, unable to free himself. Jack watched helplessly, still fifty feet away as the Jaffa scooped Daniel off the ground and moved to join the others. One of the Jaffa fumbled with some sort of device on his bicep and the group disappeared into thin air. 

Gone, gone. He was sick.

Damnit! The attack couldn’t have lasted more than a minute! Where the hell had those Jaffa come from? And why the _fuck_ hadn’t the UAV or the MALP picked up on any life signs? Jack skidded to a stop as he came to the dead Jaffa, angrily searching the body for indications of which Goa’uld they were dealing with.

"Sir?" Carter breathed heavily next to him. "Sir, what the hell just happened? Where did they come from?"

"I don’t know, Carter! They appeared and disappeared just like Hathor and Nirrti, but I don’t recognize this symbol do you?" Jack asked, indicating the tattoo on the Jaffa’s forehead.

"No, sir. Where could they have gone? Why didn’t the UAV detect any life signs?" 

"Again, I don’t know, Carter," Jack said impatiently, already tired of the unanswerable questions and the vocalization of what had been tripping through his own mind. "What I do know is that we have to find them. Teal’c should have been able to take at least two of them down. Bought time for us to get here."

Jack wearily scrubbed both hands across his face. They’d gone from a wasted but harmless mission to losing two friends in mere minutes. He had no idea where to begin their search, and dreaded the fact that they might have to go back to the SGC without their missing teammates. Studying the sledgehammer shaped tattoo on the Jaffa’s forehead, he stood up. 

"Come on, Carter. Let’s see if we can figure out where they might have gone. I’m not going to leave until I figure out exactly what’s going on here."

"Yes, sir," Carter answered, relief coloring her words. "But sir, where do we even begin?"

Jack swallowed and looked up to the sky, the sick feeling creeping into his veins and setting up camp. God, he hoped it wouldn’t build a house and take up permanent residence. He glared at Carter for her terrible offence.

Another unanswerable question.

~~~~~~~~

Before he was aware of anything else, Daniel felt the cold and wet seep into him like a reptile, saturating his entire body and chilling him to the core. Shivering uncontrollably, he slowly opened his eyes to find himself in a damp cave of some sort. He rotated his head to take in his surroundings and revised that assessment…it was more like a sinkhole. Gathered in the middle of his prison, there was a large puddle of rank-smelling water, and he could hear liquid continuously trickling and dripping.

Groaning, he fought to sit up, wanting to get away from the cold and intense, shocking pain from his right leg made him gasp. He clutched it to alleviate the pain but his actions only served to increase the agony and he let his hands fall away quickly. Clenching his teeth in distress and frustration, Daniel peered down at his leg. Even in the dim light, he could see the gash was deep and still bleeding. He growled deep in his throat, shivering from what he suspected was the onset of shock. God, it hurt.

Where had those Jaffa come from? Daniel shuddered as he recalled the attack. He and Teal’c barely had a chance to fight before they were overpowered. Teal’c… _Teal’c!_ The last image he had in his mind of his friend was unpleasant – Teal’c struggling in vain against two Jaffa. Searching the cave for signs of his Jaffa friend, he was disappointed when he discovered he was all alone.

He was sure their attackers had gone directly after Teal’c, who should have been able to take them down without any problem. It worried him that his friend had seemed to be suffering from some kind of ailment, which he was beginning to suspect was related to his inability to sense his larva. Daniel attempted to figure out exactly what was going on, trying to recall the markings on the Jaffa. He’d lost his glasses when they’d thrown him down and he never got a clear look at any of their faces. Did it really matter _who_ had them? A Goa’uld was a Goa’uld was a Goa’uld. And, to the best of his knowledge, to be had by one of them was intrinsically a bad thing. Shuffling around to search the remote, dark corners of the sinkhole for Teal’c one more futile time, he groaned at the agitation the action caused and let his head drop to the ground. Damnit. This sucked.

With that intelligent, O’Neillian thought, his mind naturally turned to Jack and Sam, wondering if they had also been captured. They both had run to aid during the attack, but Daniel couldn’t recall if they had actually made it to them. He hoped not, both for their sakes and for his and Teal’c’s. He had heard them shouting, and had tried to turn to them. Until the knife cut into him. After that, there was nothing. God, what he wouldn’t give for just a snippet of information. Anything. Suspecting anything he might get would be disagreeable, he decided he’d bank on that his other team members had escaped. They had to have.

Damn, his leg hurt. Daniel knew if he didn’t stop the bleeding and cover the wound he’d be in trouble. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, but the fact that it still bled freely concerned him. Shouldn’t it have stopped by now? How much blood had he lost? He still felt fairly clear-headed and he figured that was a good sign. Ac-centuate the positive, e-liminate the negative, latch on to the affirmative…but don’t mess with Mr. In Between. Great. There went his clear-headedness. He snickered, though it wasn’t funny at all.

Removing the belt from his pants, Daniel cringed as he carefully wrapped it around his thigh. Even the slightest touch to his leg was torture. Hands shaky, he tightened the tourniquet. Brilliant splotches of red encompassed his vision and he felt himself starting to hyperventilate. Stay calm, stay calm, he chanted to himself, trying to focus on happy things. He could never figure out why people said to do that but thought it was worth a shot. Happy things…Sam’s face when she figured out a particularly difficult problem, Jack’s sometimes obnoxious jokes, Teal’c’s insatiable curiosity to learn Earth customs, Sha’uri…

The physical pain instantly disappeared, replaced with heartache. A month. A little over a month since she had died. Daniel felt the darkness that had only begun to recede slinking back into him. For three years he had dreamed of reuniting with her, of somehow figuring out a way to free her from Amaunet. Three years ending so cruelly as she was cut down by a friend. Teal’c had avoided him for two weeks following her death.

Daniel had been grateful for his absence. 

Despite the fact he told Teal’c he’d done the right thing, he found himself unable to look at his Jaffa friend and taking routes through the Mountain where he knew he would never cross paths with the other man. Deep down, he knew Teal’c had acted in the best interest of everyone but he was only human. God, he didn’t even know how he was supposed to handle his wife just simply dying… how was he supposed to handle a friend _killing_ her? The How-To Guide to Life edition he’d read had apparently glossed over that nasty chapter.

He fiercely shook his head. Now was not the time to dredge up these feelings. Teal’c was in trouble, wherever he was. That was the important thing here, not his inability to get beyond Sha’uri’s death, and Daniel was determined to find him. He had to get out of this hole somehow. Looking up, he noted the opening above was unguarded and sinkhole wasn’t too deep – he might be able to climb out. It was worth a shot, anyway. All three of his teammates would make the attempt, no matter the potential hazard. So would he.

Rolling over onto his left side, Daniel readied himself to rise. He kept his right leg as straight as possible, shifting all his weight onto his left knee and pushing up with his arms. Fire seared, stemming from the wound and he immediately fell face down, gasping once again. Useless. He couldn’t even stand! A sob of frustration built in his chest, wanting release. He refused, swallowing past the overwhelming emotion. Balling his fists at his side, he slid onto his back. It even hurt to breathe now. Concentrating on keeping his inhalations shallow and even, he scrunched his eyes shut and folded an arm across them. 

The rhythm of the dripping water continued, lulling him into a semi-conscious state, almost hypnotizing him. Daniel lay there for countless minutes, trying not to shiver with cold and shock, because even that slight movement sent ripples of pain through him. He wasn’t successful, his body taking away control. In the distance, though, he began to hear a different rhythm. Footsteps. Loud footsteps approaching from above, which meant that whoever was coming, it definitely wasn’t any of his friends. Groaning, he moved his arm away from his face and stared at the hole in the ceiling for what he knew was coming. The footfalls stopped directly above him, and four sullen faces suddenly appeared at the opening above. 

They gazed down at him for a few seconds before one of them grunted, "Rise."

Daniel couldn’t stop himself. He laughed weakly at the idiotic request and their apparent blindness to the hole in his leg. His laughter stopped when he felt a hard probe to the wound and he couldn’t stop himself – he screamed at the savage treatment, the ache of his leg turning into full-blown agony once more. The release helped only a very small amount, enough to aid him until the pain diluted into dull throbbing. So they weren’t blind, he grimly thought.

"Rise," the Jaffa repeated smugly.

Drawing an unsteady breath, Daniel knew he had to do it or risk more abuse. The pain of rising couldn’t be as bad as anything they intended to inflict upon him if he didn’t comply. He could do it. Maybe…maybe they were going to take him to where Teal’c was. Clawing at the wall, he propped himself on his left knee and tried to ignore the burning in his right thigh. Ominous black appeared on the edges of his vision and just when he thought he was going to pass out, he felt something viciously hook him underneath both arms and he was yanked up through the hole.

The Jaffa deposited him callously onto the ground, purposely ensuring he landed on his right side. Daniel cried out again, barely clinging to consciousness as his leg gave more than a small protest at the violence, fire rocketing from the knife wound all the way to the base of his skull. Rumbles of laughter filtered through the fuzz in his head and he was lifted by his arms and dragged away from his dank prison. He tried to raise his head to watch where he was being taken but he couldn’t find the energy, wouldn’t have been able to see anything anyway for the gray ghosting along the periphery of his vision. All he could do was concentrate on his breathing and he didn’t fight against the strong hands bruising his arms.

The journey was a short one, ending after only a few minutes. The Jaffa abruptly stopped and jostled him enough to aggravate his leg again, one of them jamming a fist on his thigh. Clenching his teeth tightly together, he was determined not to give them the satisfaction of another scream and allowed only a strangled gurgle to escape. Clumsily, Daniel wriggled against his captors’ holds with as much defiance as he could, for which he was promptly punished with an elbow to his left kidney. 

His legs crumpled and the vises around his biceps painfully tightened, muttered Goa’uld curses about pitiful Tau’ris bouncing through the air. Gasping for air, his lungs lost the ground they’d gained in controlling intake and refused to cooperate. It didn’t help that this new room was significantly warmer than his former abode. Actually, it was hot. Way too hot. The shivers disappeared quickly, sweat already beginning to form along his brow. At least that meant they had been more from the cold than shock, a fact he was quite relieved about. Dying from shock was not on his top ten list of things to do…of course, neither was losing his leg to a massive infection. Another inappropriate snicker popped out of him before he could stop it. Tensing for repercussions, he was surprised when none came. 

He cautiously lifted his head slightly and looked around. Sweat dripped into his eyes, further blurring his already impaired and uncorrected vision. Squinting, he discovered the room was some type of workshop. Daniel spotted a large furnace in the middle of the room, and eyed the tools scattered around. Blacksmith? Confused by the oddness of his surroundings, he didn’t even hear the scuffling footsteps heading his way until two legs blocked his entire field of vision. Immediately, he noticed the left foot was twisted in severely and the leg was about an inch shorter than the right. The ridiculously large contingent of Jaffa surrounding him stiffened, as if coming to attention. He frowned.

Tilting his head up to look at who he assumed was the ringleader of his captors, he was a bit puzzled that a Goa’uld would be handicapped. It certainly didn’t fit the usual modus operandi of any snakes he’d personally encountered, anyway. But, given the presence of Jaffa, Daniel could only assume the person standing before him was indeed a Goa’uld. The face that greeted him when his eyes finally focused was set in a permanent scowl, half covered with a flaming red scar that made the owner look like he was in eternal pain. No, he was wrong – this couldn’t be a Goa’uld, he decided. He’d yet to see a physically less than perfect one, and Teal’c had once told him the Goa’uld were very particular when they chose hosts. Beauty was of utmost importance, physical perfection key. Just like Sha’uri…God. 

Heart aching from the image of his beautiful wife that had instantly materialized in his mind’s eye, he shook his head. No, this man was the opposite of everything the Goa’uld believed in for their hosts. He just didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing. Black, angry eyes narrowed back at him, then opened wide again with a harsh golden flash. Daniel automatically jerked back in shock, a small stunned mew flying from his mouth. His mind raced to learn he assumed incorrectly, going through every pantheon of gods and goddesses on Earth to find a match for the monster that stood before him. Monster. Goa’uld. The Jaffa on his right belted him across the face to halt his movement and he slumped, watching the bursting stars attack his view.

Before he could see again, or come up with a name, the deformed Goa’uld spoke, his voice edged with hate, "You are Tau’ri, are you not?"

Daniel mutely gaped at him, blinking several slow blinks. He was still trying to cope with the misnomer standing before him. His brain was sluggish.

"Speak!" the Goa’uld roared, raising an amazingly well formed arm up as if to strike.

"Yes, I’m Tau’ri," Daniel confirmed at last, successfully keeping a stutter from his question. Already, his hackles were rising dangerously, his bitterness toward anything Goa’uld manifesting itself with attitude in tone if not words. "And who might _you_ be?"

The Goa’uld menacingly chuckled instead of answering, nodding at his Jaffa to haul him to his feet. Rough hands heaved him through the furnace room to the adjacent one, thankfully much cooler again but not as cool as his former prison. Barren save two platforms equipped with leather restraints in the center and various implements hanging on the walls, the room had a distinct air about it he could only inadequately describe as grim. It reminded him of a torture chamber or dungeon from a bad movie, which should have frightened him, he supposed, but it only made him want to chuckle. He’d been doing a lot of that lately.

Chuckling was probably not a good idea, nor was resisting, despite his instinct to fight. Or run. So he acquiesced, playing meek and defenseless. It wasn’t that much of a stretch, given his leg wouldn’t let him do anything by way of escape. He was placed on one of the tables, and the Jaffa were summarily ordered out of the room, leaving him unshackled. Thrumming with adrenaline, his nerves were threadbare and he wildly reconsidered making a getaway attempt. He flicked his eyes at the door as the last of the bulky Jaffa departed, out of the corner of his eye caught the Goa’uld studying him. Once they were completely alone, the self-proclaimed god began hobbling around him slowly, rubbing his left hand all around the edge of the table. After several circles, the Goa’uld stopped at his waist, casually fitting the cuffs to both of his wrists.

"You are Daniel Jackson," the dual voice stated as the crippled Goa’uld constricted the leather straps until they pinched uncomfortably. 

Moving down toward his feet, the Goa’uld continued to watch his face, and Daniel schooled his features to reflect nothing of his surprise. He had only half believed Aris Boch when the bounty hunter had told them SG1 were highly sought after by the System Lords. Even this still-to-be-named Goa’uld knew of them, so he knew now Boch had been telling the truth. Oh, how he wished he hadn’t learned he was actually worth more than a day’s rations! He fervently prayed once more that Jack and Sam had gotten away.

"Do not try to deny it. Your face is a common one – wanted dead or alive. Preferably alive, of course. Think of all the wonderful acts of retribution a live subject could suffer at the hands of an angry Goa’uld…but you do not need to fear that from me. If I had any interest in the System Lords’ politics, I would have taken Colonel O’Neill and Cap… _Major_ Carter as well. As it stands, my interest lies solely in your Shol’va friend. You simply got in the way."

Relief flooded through Daniel. Jack and Sam were all right, thank God! He only had moments of reprieve before the remaining content of the Goa’uld’s words sunk in. Why Teal’c? He expected the alien to explain himself, which it apparently had no problem doing. Actually, he was surprised at how much information the lousy parasite was revealing. He remained silent, clamping down the urge to inquire about Teal’c. Wait for it.

"Since you happened to be there, I thought perhaps it would be useful and…nice to watch your reactions as I continue testing my latest weapons. Are you quite comfortable? I see your wound bleeds again, that is a shame. I can’t have you passing out or bleeding to death before the excitement really begins! Perhaps you could use a session in my sarcophagus?" the Goa’uld pondered.

"No!" Daniel reactively burst, dread filling him. The Goa’uld visibly perked up with interest, his vivid red scar lighting as his face twisted into a smile. Biting down hard on his tongue for his stupidity, he attempted to retrain his face into a blank mask.

"You object? Perhaps you have used our healing device before? It is no matter to me whether you suffer or not," the Goa’uld jeered, leaning in close to Daniel’s face. "But I can’t have you dying. I have you, and so it only makes sense that I take advantage of my good fortune. I have very little contact with humans."

A multitude of scalding, sarcastic comments came to mind and Daniel had to fight to keep them inside, some of them so base as to childishly insult the Goa’uld’s heritage. Damnit, Jack’s influence on him was stronger than he thought. Musingly, slowly, the alien looked him up and down as if he were a lab specimen. He _was_ a lab specimen. Squirming slightly, he felt a sick feeling creep into his gut, an inkling of an idea he didn’t want to see or hear come into fruition.

"Yes, I think you will do quite nicely," the Goa’uld said at last, stroking Daniel’s cheek with one finger. "I grow tired of my weak limbs and disfigured face – punishment of Sohkar. He will be the first to feel my wrath!"

A cold shaft of fear drove into Daniel as the Goa’uld laid out his intentions. No, he would not willingly use a sarcophagus and he’d be damned if this thing took him as a host. Without thinking, Daniel bucked helplessly on the table, arching his back in a foolish, panic-stricken act. The Goa’uld laughed, apparently amused by his antics. Limply, he fell back onto the tabletop as ensuing pain encompassed his leg.

"You have spirit. That will make this all the more entertaining. Jaffa, kree! Bring me the Shol’va."

"Who _are_ you?" Daniel gasped, weakly coughing.

"And I was told you possessed intelligence," the Goa’uld sneered. "I am, of course, Hephaestus."

Hephaestus…Hephaestus? Greek god of fire…

"You and your friend will bring me the recognition and power I deserve. The System Lords will no longer laugh at my lameness while they ungratefully take my inventions! Abandoned here for all time, working as a slave to their needs! I will not do it anymore," Hephaestus laughed delightedly. "With my new body and my new weapons, I will rise up in the ranks as I should."

Daniel frowned at the crazy laughter. What did Teal’c have that could aid Hephaestus? He flexed his arms but the restraints wouldn’t budge. Heart racing, Daniel tracked the Goa’uld as he paced around the room, impatiently waiting for Teal’c’s arrival. The Goa’uld’s mutterings and unusual propensity to reveal information had him confused, and he tried to sort out the rambling. Out of context, nothing he could hear made sense.

Sudden movement at the doorway drew his and Hephaestus’ attention. Hanging between two Jaffa was Teal’c, half conscious, pale and terribly limp. Appalled by the sight of his formidable friend in such a debilitated state, he instinctively turned toward Teal’c as if he could provide aid or comfort. God, what had they done to him? Getting a closer look, Daniel took stock of Teal’c’s condition, alarm rising at his findings. Teal’c’s shirt was gone, revealing a torso covered with bruises, welts and burns. His arms were in the same shape. Judging from the unnatural angle his right arm was hanging, he would guess it was broken. Last item on the list, but certainly not the least, he saw a huge lump on his friend’s bald head.

"Put him on the other table," Hephaestus ordered.

The Jaffa tossed Teal’c onto the unoccupied slab next to him, ignoring the groans of resulting pain. As horrible as the sounds were, Daniel was glad to hear his friend wasn’t totally unresponsive. He searched the other man for signs of any further damage, relieved when he did not see any. He wanted to call out, to let Teal’c know he was there but Hephaestus walked in between them, obstructing his view.

"I see my weapon does indeed work! It is only a matter of time before I can unleash it on all the System Lords’ armies!"

Daniel tried to puzzle what the Goa’uld was talking about. What weapon? Why…Teal’c! Oh, God, had Hephaestus somehow figured out how to disable the Jaffa’s larva? It made sense. Teal’c had started feeling strange before and he had noticed that it seemed to take more effort for his friend to perform normal activities…like helping him up. Looking at his friend again, this time with even more apprehension, he was dismayed to see a sheen of sweat on his face. Teal’c’s external injuries were clearly not life threatening, yet the Jaffa was semi conscious and apparently in great pain. Why hadn’t he started healing? He had a bad feeling about the answer to that question.

"You’re insane! I know what you’re planning…" Daniel heard himself mutter.

"What? What did you say? You dare…" Hephaestus flashed his eyes and raced toward him with surprising agility. "I am _not_ insane!"

The Goa’uld averted his fiery eyes, searching the room and locking on a point just above his shoulder. Unconsciously, Daniel looked to see a ribbon device hanging from a hook on the wall. Oh, God. The enraged alien hobbled over to it, put it on and aimed it at him.

Vulnerably strapped down, Daniel cringed as he saw the crystal start to glow. Not again! His wife’s lovely face sprang into his mind, cold and hard as her arm extended toward him with purpose. No. Not Sha’uri…Amaunet. Closing his eyes against that horrifying image and the new pain about to be inflicted, he waited for the assault on his brain to begin. Instead, he felt warmth spreading through his hurt leg, turning suddenly to raging, burning torture. He screamed as the pain seemed to go on forever, increasing until it engulfed him completely. 

Just when Daniel thought it would never end, that he was trapped in a neverending hell, his world darkened to a prevailing blackness and he knew no more. 

~~~~~~~~

Sam wanted to ask the colonel what he expected to find up there, but she reconsidered before the thought was even halfway complete. Her CO’s mood had deteriorated rapidly after Teal’c and Daniel’s disappearance, as had her own. Risking the verbal slaying she would get if she made any inquiry to his logic was not really appealing, her ears still ringing from the last time. If the colonel thought climbing the tallest tree in the woods was a great idea, then he could go right ahead. Stuck on the ground, which refused to yield any answers, she chewed on the inside of her right cheek and tried not to let her brain acknowledge the many ‘what if’ scenarios floating vaguely around there. To say she was worried was a huge understatement.

Ringing in her ears, Daniel’s scream was as loud as ever…as was the contradictory disturbing silence from Teal’c. This shouldn’t have happened, and the possible reasons for how her Jaffa teammate had been so easily compromised refused to settle. Something told her that if she and the colonel didn’t find their friends soon, they would lose at least Teal’c. And probably Daniel as well. God, why hadn’t she sensed the Jaffa attackers before they had materialized? Sam violently kicked a rotting log, watching the soggy wood chip into the air and flop back onto the ground. It had been over fifteen minutes and she still had _no_ idea what they should do. 

She’d been in a funk for weeks, perturbed beyond reason about her alternate self. On the surface, Sam was pretty sure she had conveyed detached scientific curiosity and professionalism, but during that entire fiasco she had been a bundle of intense energy. For some reason, she hadn’t been able to accept the clear differences between her and…her. She still couldn’t. It had festered in the back of her mind, drowning out everything else, and was still there despite the desperate concern for Daniel and Teal’c. Shaking her head, she tried to dispel the useless thoughts. Why couldn’t she just let it go? She had to – for her friends.

Shielding her eyes from the sun, Sam peered up at the colonel swaying back and forth on the highest sturdy branch. He was scanning the area with his binoculars, trying desperately to find some clue as to where the Jaffa had come from and consequently where their friends were. There had been no further activity since their abduction and she thought it strange no additional Jaffa had sought them out. None of this made any sense – not the misleading UAV findings, not Teal’c’s strange behavior, not the attack. She had a vague sense that they were all connected, but the thought remained intangible. 

"Sir, any luck?" she braved, calling up quietly. Instinctively, she looked back down and scanned the perimeter of the small clearing she stood in for signs of any attackers. Nothing. Why not?

Wracking her memory, looking back on the attack, it had been apparent that the Jaffa had gone directly for Teal’c, ignoring the rest of them until Daniel had got in the way. They probably would have left him alone had he not attempted to fight them. And had killed one. She heard the colonel start his descent but kept her eyes pinned on her surroundings. His arm brushed against hers as he finally drew up next to her and she glanced at him to find a scowl still set firmly across his face. Sam sighed. He must not have seen anything. The thought of her friends in the hands of a Goa’uld finally overthrew her selfish wallowing, ashamedly late in doing so.

"Damnit, this planet is as empty as we thought it was. Is it possible this Goa’uld has a ship in orbit or something?" the colonel asked tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose in a gesture that somehow reminded her of Daniel. Her heart panged with fear for both of her missing friends.

"I don’t think so, sir. I mean, we’ve never seen anyone except the Asgard beam directly to and from their ships. The Goa’uld always use rings. I just don’t see how they could have engineered those to be invisible. We would have seen something. Or heard something," Sam extrapolated, pushing aside feelings for logic once more. "At least I think we would have. They tend to surprise us with new technology…Teal’c’s been out of the Goa’uld loop for almost four years."

"Well, that’s reassuring," the colonel sighed, taking off his hat and scratching his head. He growled in frustration. "If they weren’t transported to some ship, they’re either still here or they’ve already made it to the ‘gate and could be anywhere. Shit, I wish I knew where to begin."

As scary as that admission was, Sam was almost relieved to learn her CO was as much at a loss as she. No, she wasn’t at a loss but where her brain was telling her to go was not something she really wanted to do, or even give voice to. Sighing, she knew she had to sooner or later.

"It is theoretically possible the Goa’uld have developed the phase technology on a large enough scale to disguise an entire facility. That might explain why the UAV revealed ruins but when we arrived we saw nothing. This may sound far fetched, but it could be that this all was some elaborate trap."

"Trap?"

"You don’t think it’s a little odd that we were surprised so completely? I don’t know, sir. I just have this feeling there’s more here than meets the eye. In case the Goa’uld _did_ manage to hide a building, maybe we should go back to the SGC and get additional support," Sam suggested tentatively, knowing how her commanding officer would take leaving the planet without Teal’c and Daniel.

"I was thinking about that," the colonel agreed, surprising her. Rubbing his left cheek with his palm, he glared at the same rotting log she had abused earlier for a moment before looking back up to her. For a brief flash, Sam saw outright panic in his eyes but it faded to hardened calm before she could react. He continued, "But I don’t want to take the chance the Goa’uld will somehow block the ‘gate on this side and prevent us from coming back. Provided they are still here, that is. If we leave, we may never get back." 

Sam studied the older man carefully, searching for signs of distress again. He had his shield up but still appeared extremely tired…no, tired wasn’t the word. Weary. Worried. Old. And, there, she caught the terror again. It wasn’t something the colonel revealed often, and she suddenly felt like a voyeur. She turned her head away from him to give him a few minutes to collect himself. If she admitted it, she needed those minutes herself. 

She could make a pretty good guess why Daniel and Teal’c’s disappearance was hitting him so hard. Things had been quite strained between their two teammates for over a month now, since that awful moment when Daniel had lost Sha’uri. Flying into the tent, Sam hadn’t been sure which of her friends had looked worse. Daniel had been so frighteningly small on the ground, touching his dead wife’s face tenderly and whispering his love. Crying. She hadn’t been able to recall Daniel’s emotions manifesting themselves in such a tangible way, and seeing it had shocked her. Her stomach clenched at the mere memory, a shadow of the pain she had felt for her friend at that moment. 

Amazingly enough, though, Teal’c had looked nearly as bad in his position, kneeling at the foot of the horrible tableau of a dead Sha’uri and crying Daniel. His usually stoic face transmitted intense distress at the choice he had had to make…and she had no idea know how he had done it. Teal’c had revealed to her later that Daniel’s absolution had been immediate and that had been…was still the reason for his dismay. He couldn’t understand how Daniel had been able to forgive such a horrendous act with no hesitation at all. His guilt would not alleviate, he had said, because what he had done had been unforgivable. Despite having gained pardon.

She thought she understood – Daniel had been able to forgive because it _wasn’t_ a horrendous act. Teal’c had made the only choice he could, and everyone knew it. To see him separate himself from Daniel was painful for her; every time either one of them had sought her out lately, she had felt as though speaking either one’s name in the other’s presence was taboo. It was painful and awkward and so, so understandable. She had been stuck in the middle, wanting to help them both but not knowing how. Sam believed Daniel even encouraged it, possibly willing to forgive but not quite ready to forget. How could any of them expect him to go on as though life were the same? There was an absence surrounding both of her friends now, a dearth of comfort and hope.

Smiling sadly, she believed things had only just started warming up between the unlikely pair of friends. And now they were gone. Though her concern would have been great regardless of the personal conflict happening between them, taking that into account simply increased her anxiousness.

If all this that had been impacting her so greatly, even through her own admittedly self-absorbed funk, she imagined it had been worse for the colonel. As their CO and their friend. One thing she had learned in working with the seemingly hard man next to her was that he _wasn’t_ hard at all – the brusqueness he exhibited was at the very least eighty-five percent façade. Protection against feeling so much for those close to him that their pain became his. Sam knew the tactic well, and so knew how ineffectual it was. 

Part of her was jealous of the camaraderie and bond she saw between the colonel and Daniel and, albeit different in form, the one between him and Teal’c. She could blame it on not really being ‘one of the guys’ but that was too easy. What she did know was that the difference between her interaction with their two missing teammates and the colonel’s was significant. He might not think she saw how he wore the stress on his sleeve, but she had seen it for weeks. 

She saw it now. 

Jerking herself out of her grim thoughts and memories, Sam stared up into the sun, which provided no warmth in its rays. They coldly, harshly beat into her retinas and blinded her. She almost wished the light could actually blind her to the pain she saw emanating from her CO because, more and more, it was affecting her and making it more difficult to distance her own emotions as she knew she must. 

Touching her lightly on the elbow, the colonel silently started walking away from her. His back was stiff, gait stilted and she was riveted to the spot for a full thirty seconds before she realized he was journeying the direction of the Stargate. Heart feeling as though it were in her throat, Sam jogged to catch up with him, ready to inquire if they were indeed going to take the chance and go back to Earth. Leave Teal’c and Daniel. One look at his face again halted her words, and she snapped her mouth shut. 

They walked in silence. Each footfall she took edged up her misgivings about the situation, feeling as though they had already abandoned Daniel and Teal’c to their fates. Passing the dead Jaffa, Sam shuddered at the isolated puddle of blood that was undoubtedly Daniel’s. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of it for a simple leg wound. Her imagination kicked into overdrive, leading her to think about how it was the same leg that had been injured on Hathor’s planet. Making connections where there probably were none.

Lost in thought, she stumbled, scuffling forward a few clumsy paces in an attempt to regain balance and prevent a fall. The colonel snagged her waistband, abruptly halting her forward momentum. She quickly straightened her back, skirting away from him as she did so. The crunch of glass made her freeze, look down at her feet and then yank her head back up with awful realization. Following the same path as she had, her CO narrowed his eyes when he gazed down at her raised foot. Stayed on the shattered and twisted remains of Daniel’s glasses and didn’t move for a long time. He didn’t even blink.

Then the muscle in his jaw twitched once and he started walking again. She leaned down, snagging up the destroyed glasses and putting them in her jacket pocket. Though she didn’t know why, having them there made her feel a little bit better. Not enough. Mind racing, Sam kept spinning the crazy events of the last half hour in her head over and over, trying to catch that niggling thought and pin it down. It goaded her, remaining as irritatingly unclear to her as the questions in the game show Jeopardy! sometimes were until smarmy Alex Trebeck revealed them. She felt that comparison – she had just bet all her money on an answer she didn’t know the question to and was about to lose big.

They couldn’t…they could _not_ leave this planet without Daniel and Teal’c. 

"Sir," she called, jumping at how loud her voice was amid the silence. The colonel’s pace didn’t break. Boldly, she continued, "Sir, we can’t go back to Earth."

"I know that, Carter," he growled back, finally stopping. He shot her an impatient glare. "But we can’t just stand around with our thumbs up our asses while who knows what is happe…"

Flinching as he swallowed the remainder of his retort, Sam averted her face from his intense stare. She didn’t need him to continue to understand that worst case scenarios had been playing out in his mind as well. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling they were heading in the wrong direction. 

"What if we went back to the site where the ruins were supposed to be?"

"And why would we do that?"

"I don’t know, sir. I just have this feeling that’s where we should be, not here. This is all a little too coincidental, if you ask me. Wouldn’t it be better to discover what we’re up against so we know what we might need from the SGC?"

"I understand that, but I don’t understand why you are so sure going back there will help."

Why was he being so argumentative? 

"Maybe it’s women’s intuition, sir!" Sam snapped. 

"And if that undeniably reasonable and scientific lead doesn’t pan out, then we’ll have wasted hours, Carter. Hours," the colonel calmly said. "Daniel and Teal’c may not have that long and I don’t want to squander time climbing on a bunch of freaking rocks!"

Oh. Right. Embarrassed by her tunnel vision, Sam ducked her head, closing her eyes. 

"We’ll contact General Hammond, let him know the situation. Right now I’m planning to advise that two additional units be sent here for search and rescue, to err on the side of caution. All we can do is hope he doesn’t run into any red tape with the Pentagon regarding risking so many lives for the sake of two."

Like Teal’c had said had happened before…again with the Hathor thing. Sam didn’t know why she kept thinking about that. At least she wasn’t bogged down with her residual squickiness from her doppelganger.

"You don’t think…"

"I wouldn’t put it past them. Shall we go before the sun disappears?"

She absently started walking the same time he did, but her mind went elsewhere. Sun disappears. The words rattled around over and over. Disappears. Vanishes. Becomes invisible. Oh…god. She was an idiot! The continual references back to Hathor were apparently her subconscious Alex Trebeck, telling her the obvious thing she had been looking.

"Sir!" she burst, forgetting herself and clutching at his forearm. "We need to request that TERs be sent with the reinforcements, if we get them. And, if possible, for a UAV to be fitted with them to do a sweep of the rock formations in case the Goa’uld somehow did manage to disguise that large an area." 

"Right," he agreed, then continued to mumble under his breath in a disgruntled tone, apparently as perturbed by how long it had taken to think of it.

Filled with renewed hope, Sam picked up her pace slightly. They’d make it back to the ‘gate in record time, there would be enough teams on stand down to aid with the rescue and everything was going to be just fine. Just fine. If that was the case, why was this nauseating feeling that something was wrong, wrong, wrong not going away? She glanced back one more time in the direction of the rocks and hoped that they were making the right decision. That they wouldn’t come back with troops amassed only to discover they were too late and that Daniel and Teal’c were lost to them. 

Dead.

~~~~~~~~

Shivering with cold, Teal’c lay on the cold platform upon which he had been deposited. His head was a disarray of nebulous ringing and thick with muted pain. He felt his muscles weakening, had felt the uncomfortable sensation the entire time the Jaffa were torturing him. He was not fond of the torture and illness, or the strange heaviness suddenly settling in his chest. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, and his lungs caught raggedly with each inhalation. Teal’c thought perhaps this was what his Tau’ri friends experienced when they suffered a ‘cold’. Never again would he be unsympathetic when O’Neill complained incessantly about being ill. 

His memory was filled with holes, muddled and incomplete. Walking toward the Stargate with the rest of his team was the last thing he remembered clearly, O’Neill’s mockery of Major Carter and Daniel Jackson still reverberating in his ears, at once irritating and well intentioned. The levity SG1’s team leader infused into the otherwise dour, somber group had been necessary for some time. While he was not yet ready to forgive himself for taking the life of Sha’uri, to see Daniel Jackson’s demeanor improve even a minute amount was had been a slight weight off his shoulders. He did not know if it would ever dissipate completely; the damage to his relationship with the younger man was tremendous and he did not expect it to regain its former status. It was a fact to which he was still becoming resigned. 

Resignation did little to alleviate the ache he felt regarding his unfortunate role in his friend’s pain. In collusion with the very real physical discomfort he had been dealt at the hands of these miserable Jaffa who had thus far concealed the false god to whom they swore allegiance, that ache served to make him frighteningly weak. Wracked with shudders from the icy air and the unfortunate path his cluttered mind had taken him, Teal’c found himself suddenly, surprisingly drenched with sweat. A voice broke through his melancholic regret, indistinct and nonsensical through the humming. He shook his head, needing to heave himself to his present situation. In the back of his cluttered thoughts, he had a vague sense there was something important he must remember. There was something…someone…with him in this room.

He turned his head to see who was on a table identical to his, shocked to find Daniel strapped down. Heart racing, Teal’c recalled with vibrant precision the last few moments before he had found himself in the hands of his torturers. The archaeologist coming to his aid, falling unsuccessfully. The humming in his ears turned to a loud-pitched screech, tormenting him for being so weak that he had not been able to offer protection to his friend. That, even now, he could do nothing to aid an escape attempt. The shrieking increased in volume, and he wanted to block his ears in cowardice. Rolling his head away, he tried to tune it…no, wait, the cry was real! Blinking, he squinted at the bright orange glow engulfing his friend’s legs. Daniel Jackson was screaming. Orange glow. Ribbon device. 

Teal’c sat up, the desire to help his friend outweighing his own discomfort. He made himself roll off the high slab, lurching toward Daniel’s attacker. Preposterously unimpeded by Jaffa, he made it all the way to the Goa’uld, feebly clutching at the ribbon device to stop its damaging effect. He stumbled and fell to his knees, his arms suddenly and roughly wrenched away from their purpose. Struggling wanly, it took the newly present Jaffa only seconds to subdue him and he could do no more. He breathed harshly, barely able to keep his head up, but was satisfied to see the weapon deactivate and hear Daniel’s screams fade to whimpers. Blood coated the other man’s right pant leg.

The Goa’uld howled in rage, turning his anger on Teal’c and blasting him with the ribbon device. He slumped to the ground as the Jaffa released him. Advancing on him, the Goa’uld’s strangely disfigured face was large with hate. Blistering pain, unlike anything he had ever felt before, became his world and his body vibrated with residual tidal waves. He could not fight it, his eyes closing briefly. He had experienced the wrath conveyed through the apparatus before but, without strength to issue a challenge, he was weakening far too rapidly. Just when he thought the agony would become too excruciating to bear, the inflaming light cut off and left him with only the struggle to draw breath. He collapsed, face down, onto the floor.

"Shol’va! You dare interfere! I should kill you right now," the Goa’uld growled at him. Through the grating voice, Teal’c could still hear Daniel making small noises of hurt. "If my experimentations had no more need for you, be assured you would be dead right now, as would your Tau’ri…friend."

With great effort, Teal’c raised his head and spared a glance his young friend, who appeared delirious, tossing back and forth against his restraints. The archaeologist was gray and as covered in sweat as he himself was. Rage surged in him for their baseless, arcane mistreatment. Swiveling his head, he looked around the room for any indication of who held them captive, not recognizing any of the marking on the walls or the symbols on the Jaffas’ foreheads. The crude sledgehammer nudged something in the periphery of his recollection but it was not concrete.

He turned his attention to the Goa’uld itself, vision blurry from fever and pain. Unable to see more than a hazy outline, Teal’c squinted and the Goa’uld’s terrible face became clear. The brilliantly red scar seemed almost its own separate entity, morbidly protruding out toward him. He had never known a false god to be physically flawed, and evidence of such shocked him even through his stupor. Breathing harshly, he lifted his head further and immediately noticed other impairments. A twisted leg, a misshapen hand. It was not right, but it was familiar. 

And it came to him. As a child, he had questioned where the gods got their new, amazing technology and weapons, innocently curious. His mother had told him a sad tale, of a misfit god who was not as magnificent as his fellow gods, blighted early on with deformities too massive even godhood could not cure. Hephaestus was his name, and though he was unable to match the might of the other gods, he had skills that were highly sought. Skills in tool making, inventiveness in weaponry. His ugliness kept him sequestered away from the rest of the universe, a secret genius. He had believed the story a mere myth, had eventually replaced it with the idea that the Goa’uld plundered and stole what they desired and had no creativity of their own.

He had been incorrect, it would seem. It would also seem that he and, because of his weakness, Daniel Jackson had become some sort of laboratory rodents, necessary but expendable instruments in furthering Goa’uld technological advancement. Unacceptable, unacceptable. Fumbling, Teal’c managed to get his hands on the ground and he tensed his uncooperative muscles to work for him. He would not be used in such a manner, nor would he allow Daniel to die. Contradicting internal strength, his body wavered as if he were a foal. His elbows threatened to fold him back into a crumpled pile. He locked them, freezing as the Goa’uld began muttering again.

"But now that I consider it, perhaps it would be best if I heal the human before I enter him. It would be a waste of time waiting for his body to recover after I have taken possession. Yes…"

Enter. Possession. The words agitated in his head, making it swirl and ache so much the pain traveled into his belly. Death, such an abhorrent possibility only moments ago, was preferable to what Hephaestus apparently had planned for Daniel. He scrabbled onto his knees, fueled by fury, but he lacked the power to fight the instant lock two of the Jaffa obtained on his shoulders. Snarling at rage aimed at himself as much as his and Daniel’s captors, he lost his ire when his roving eyes landed upon the now completely limp form of his friend. Though the archaeologist in actuality was not, he appeared small. Inexplicably, Teal’c was frightened.

"Yes," Hephaestus definitively repeated. "Now that I know my ultimate weapon works so effectively, I can begin building my own army of Jaffa and take on the System Lords. With my new, strong, host, I will make them pay for my years of suffering under their will."

Incredulously, Teal’c took another look at his surroundings. Unless Hephaestus had a store of weapons and more than the scattered few Jaffa he had seen, he could not envision the defeat of the System Lords by a single Goa’uld. Such a thing would take much power…much more than evidenced here. Hephaestus could not be entirely sane, that was the only explanation he could accept. Anything else was too terrible to contemplate and he could not give credence to the possibility the Goa’uld did indeed have enough reserves to accomplish domination.

"You will not be successful," Teal’c had to whisper. He coughed weakly, his chest rattling ominously. He remembered feeling this way only once before – when he gave his symbiote to Ry’ac so that his son may live. If not for his friends… "My friends will stop your insurrection before it begins when they come for us." 

Blinking as though surprised Teal’c had spoken, Hephaestsus stared at him for a long minute before starting to chuckle and shake his head. Perplexed by the odd reaction, he leaned closer to the Goa’uld as if that would make him understand. To his astonishment, Hephaestus’s laughter subsided, he shifted around slightly and then vanished.

Moments later, a bodiless voice taunted right in his ear, "How could they do such a thing when they cannot see what is right before their faces?"

He reeled back, startled by the hot breath wafting across his cheek. He had not remembered…how had he not known the Jaffa had used Ree’tu technology? 

"O’Neill and Major Carter will not give up easily. They have access to TERs, which…you designed and they will…use them to determine our position."

"It does not matter. By the time they can do so, Daniel Jackson’s body will be mine, my Jaffa and I will be gone and you, Shol’va Teal’c, will be dead."

With that, Hephaestus turned from him and limped toward Daniel. Teal’c was hauled backward, carted back to the elevated platform next to his unconscious friend’s and strapped tightly down. In his dim peripheral vision, he saw an orange glow set upon the archaeologist’s leg once again as the Goa’uld proceeded to heal the wound. Normally, he would be gladdened to know the younger man’s physical suffering was nearing an end but he could not allow himself that luxury, knowing that the sooner Daniel’s injuries were healed, the sooner he would suffer a worse horror. He could do nothing but turn his head, make himself watch as a form of penance for his failure to keep his young friend safe yet again

He coughed, lungs issuing protest against the accumulation of fluids in them. He wanted to expel the phlegm and mucous, spit the vile substances at Hephaestus in a useless act of insurgence and rail like a child at the injustice. Making a soft, sleepy noise, Daniel moved slightly under the healing device’s ministrations. Teal’c cringed. His vow upon his young friend’s immediate words of understanding, if not forgiveness, after killing Sha’uri had been to never allow emotional or physical harm to befall Daniel Jackson because of him. 

And yet here they were. Teal’c was incapacitated, weak as a baby and unable to prevent the usurpation of his friend’s body and mind. Despair rocked him to the core, a feeling seldom acknowledged by any Jaffa. Silently begging Daniel’s forgiveness, he closed his eyes and turned away from the horrible sight. He was a coward for giving up so readily but he could not bear the penance to watch the resuscitation of health that would ultimately lead to his friend’s death. A hot tear slid down his face, disguising itself among the sweat already coursing there.

It did not matter if his weakness was discovered by those surrounding him. All that mattered was that when O’Neill and Major Carter arrived, they would find only a friend who was no longer a friend and his own empty shell. Hephaestus did not have to elaborate on the latest weapon in his arsenal; no System Lord could maintain power without his or her Jaffa slaves. He did not know how Goa’uld had done it, but he did know this mysterious weapon’s purpose was to weaken. To kill, as it was killing him.

"I am sorry, Daniel Jackson," Teal’c softly said.

And he never had been more so in his life. He regretted not regaining Daniel’s friendship and trust. He regretted failing in his unspoken duty. He regretted…

Running footsteps intruded on the silence that had set upon the room after his quiet request for forgiveness. He jerked as the intrusion was followed by a loud voice, "My lord Hephaestus! The Tau’ri have discovered our location!"

Lolling his head the direction the voice was emanating from, Teal’c opened his eyes and his heart refilled with hope. Hephaestus cursed, stopped healing Daniel’s wound and threw the healing device to the ground in a show of irritation.

"Too soon, too soon! Have they found the entrance to our lair?"

"No, my lord."

"We must see to it that they do not. Throw them in the pit!" Hephaestus indicated with a wave of his good hand. "We will dispense of the irritating vermin at once and then I will finish what I have begun."

Moving promptly at their master’s directives, the Jaffa released Daniel from the restraints and one of them slung him over a shoulder. Two more grabbed Teal’c forcefully and dragged him out of the room. He didn’t try to resist, knowing it was best to conserve his waning energy. Certain O’Neill and Major Carter would find them soon, he hung limply as the Jaffa marched him through the dank hallways. Underground. They must be underground, the walls were made of cold stone and there was a dirty dampness in the air that made his lungs seize up. He coughed and was rewarded with a sharp jab in the ribs. Coughing harder, he stopped observing his surroundings and let his head hang down.

Blood rushed in his ears, almost loudly enough to obscure a low moan from Daniel. He looked up in time to see the younger man thoughtlessly flung into an expansive hole in the middle of the tunnel floor. He prayed the archaeologist had regained consciousness enough to roll away from the opening before he would be tossed down into the same cold prison. The Jaffa hurled Teal’c violently into the sinkhole, raucous curses trailing after him. His not insignificant weight landed on something soft that grunted in pain, and he knew Daniel had awakened. 

Instantly, he attempted to roll off his cellmate, but was too weak to move. His head rested on Daniel’s left shoulder, body strewn crossways on top of the smaller man. He could feel his friend gasping for air and wriggling to free himself from his live blanket, fully aware once again. Wincing, he tried again to move and spare at least this small discomfort for the other man.

"Teal’c…get off…God you…weigh…a…ton!" Daniel croaked, wheezing loudly and unpleasantly.

Accompanying the dreadful sounds, the man beneath him started convulsing, and Teal’c was frightened he was crushing him. He bolstered up as much energy as he could, propped one hand down on the ground and used it to flop himself over. Screaming at the self-inflicted abuse, his body shook at the exertion and the resultant pain of his action. He joined Daniel’s chokes, creating a duet of tortured sound that echoed around the small cavern in which they had been thrown. After a few moments, he was able to gain control of his inhalations, though they were still rattling ominously. Presaging his death. The body next to him, though, continued to tremble long after he thought it should. Concern mounting, he worried he had he caused further injury to his friend. 

Fear providing the necessary adrenaline, Teal’c turned his head and shoulders toward his semi-prone friend. Shadowed by dimness and his own fading eyesight, most of Daniel’s body was not visible. What he saw was that the shaking was increasing rather than decreasing and his heart beat sporadically in his chest at the implication. His death was a certainty even if O’Neill and Major Carter found them soon; he was beginning to suspect Daniel’s fate would be the same. He wanted to provide comfort but he did not know what to do or whether it would be accepted. Before he could contemplate it further, a different muffled noise emitted from the young man. 

Laughter. 

Laughter! He found himself extraordinarily perturbed by the realization that while he had been upset and afraid for the other man’s life, Daniel had apparently been enjoying himself immensely. Energy faded out of him, and he slumped onto his back, head heavily thumping the damp ground. Finally propping himself on his elbows, the object of his exasperation looked down at him. Teal’c frowned, still angry and confused as to why the archaeologist found their situation humorous – as O’Neill’s banter from earlier in the day, this amusement was inappropriate and confounding. His scowl lightened somewhat as he realized the smile on his friend’s face was the first genuine one he had seen since Sha’uri…the thoughts made his face twist again. 

"Daniel Jackson, would you please explain what is causing you to laugh?" Teal’c asked, meaning to sound stoically jovial in an attempt to regain the glimmer of his good disposition, stunned at how feebly the words came out.

Daniel sobered immediately, apparently not liking his weakened speech either. A gamut of emotions flickered across the archaeologist’s face before settling to resounding concern. Softly, a hand was placed upon his forehead, cool and refreshing, warm and comforting. Amazingly welcome.

"God, Teal’c, are you all right?" the other man whispered. The coolness of the hand lessened slightly but did not completely disappear. Fever still burned within him. Studying him closely, Daniel’s features saddened as he continued, "You look like hell."

He could not argue.

"Indeed. I also feel like hell, Daniel Jackson."

"Uhm, what happened? I think I kind of passed out. The last thing I remember is that Hephaestus was ribboning me, then I was suddenly upside down staring at a Jaffa’s armored ass," Daniel said mildly with a brief smile and a wince. His hand automatically shot up to his cheekbone, already displaying a large bruise from the plummet down into the pit. As an afterthought, the archaeologist murmured, "It’s good to see you, though."

Intense blue eyes spoke of sympathetic pain, fear and understanding of Hephaestus’ weapon. There was no need to speak of it. Closing his eyes, Teal’c said, "Hephaestus began to heal your leg in preparation for taking over your body. He was not able to complete either task."

"Oh. Okay, great on the no Goa’uld in my head thing and yeah, I know he didn’t finish healing me, because right now I would love to gnaw my leg off it hurts so much. Actually, that’s not true. It does feel a bit better than it did. That’s good news, right?" the archaeologist rambled and Teal’c heard him shuffling around.

"Indeed." 

Feeling suddenly like he was falling down a neverending hole, swirling and swirling forever, Teal’c opened his eyes. Daniel had changed positions so that they were lying side by side. His head was still thick and muddled. Despite the vertigo, he could not keep his eyes open. He knew. He knew O’Neill and Major Carter would be far too late to prevent his death. Unafraid of the actual, physical event, he began to prepare for it. 

"Hey, Teal’c," his companion suddenly urged with a nudge to his shoulder as if Daniel had read his mind. "You have to try and stay awake for me, okay? Did Hephaestus tell you what he did to you? Or if there was a cure? No, of course he didn’t. Why would he do that?"

Teal’c allowed a small smile at Daniel’s nervous chattering. It was always better if this particular human was speaking. No matter the content of his words, they were a source of comfort for him, just as his silence was a source of apprehension.

Daniel had been silent for many days after the death of Sha’uri. Even O’Neill could not get him to speak. Though Teal’c had stayed away from the archaeologist, Major Carter always came to him to provide news on their friend’s condition. He was never quite sure if his absence was beneficial to the emotional recovery Daniel required, but he felt it was necessary for their friendship. No one he had ever met could cope with tragedy in a rapid manner, and he knew the archaeologist was no exception to that rule. The void left without that relationship had been painful. His soul ached for time lost that would never be recovered.

"I am sorry, Daniel Jackson."

The soft words of his friend stopped immediately and Teal’c turned his head toward Daniel. Bewildered blue eyes stared back at him, and the archaeologist’s mouth flapped open and shut repeatedly.

"I am sorry," Teal’c murmured again.

"F-for what, Teal’c?"

"For once again being responsible for your suffering," Teal’c simply answered. He was so incredibly sorry for that and for losing friendship.

"Teal’c, this isn’t your fault! It was totally a case of me being in the wrong place at the wrong time," Daniel protested.

"Yes. But that is not of what I am speaking."

"Oh...oh." 

Daniel’s face instantly lost all of its slight animation and Teal’c feared he erred in bringing up this subject. It could not be delayed, however. He could feel his life draining from him and this was something they needed to discuss. They had never spoken directly to each other about the death of Sha’uri. With so little time remaining, he wanted to ask Daniel the question that had been on his mind since he had known the younger man.

"Daniel Jackson, I know I do not deserve your friendship. I never have, and yet you give it willingly. How is this possible?"

Pausing, Daniel stared at him and Teal’c again saw understanding on the other man’s face. Sadness, replaced quickly by determination. Frustration clear in his tone, Daniel said, "Teal’c, do you remember Cartago? Remember how much Hanno wanted to see you die for your past sins? I can’t be like that, I never could. I couldn’t hold you responsible for actions you were instructed to complete."

"I was not instructed to end the life of Sha’uri," Teal’c gently pointed out.

Daniel winced, though he had likely known the statement was coming. Internally, Teal’c grieved for rousing pain the younger man was only now moving past. 

"No, no, you weren’t."

"And you still allow me to walk by your side."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Teal’c, if I tell you something… When Sh…Amaunet had me in the grip of the ribbon device, I experienced something amazing. I haven’t told anyone this…I’m not sure why. I’m afraid no one will believe me, I guess. Teal’c, Sha’uri spoke to me through the weapon. I don’t know how, but I do know _why_." Daniel paused and furrowed his brows. Closing his eyes, he appeared afraid to continue but he took several deep breaths and did so. "She had something very important to tell me, but she wouldn’t do it right away. You want to know why, Teal’c?"

Searching his friend’s face, Teal’c almost had to look away from the emotion emanating from it. Daniel’s eyes were filled with fear…fear for him. The fear transformed instantly to neutrality as though Daniel was trying to protect him from the truth. He tried to answer the question, but couldn’t seem to make his mouth work properly. There was nothing but blurred pain and he wanted to fade away.

"Hey, stay awake. Remember, Teal’c?" Daniel prompted him gently, shaking his shoulder. "You with me?"

Teal’c nodded and opened his mouth again, pleased when words actually came out of it, "I am."

Lies. He knew what Daniel was telling him was terribly important but he could not seem to focus. Overtaking everything, his failing body battled for all of his attention.

"Good. Teal’c, Sha’uri told me about her son. She said that he was a Harcesis, that he possesses all the knowledge of the Goa’uld even though he’s human and that he must be protected. But she didn’t tell me about him right away. No, first she told me I needed to get on with my life. She made me see the future as it might have gone down, and it wasn’t pretty – I quit the SGC and refused to forgive you. Sha’uri wouldn’t give up on me, though. She kept insisting you were right to kill her and that I needed to get beyond my anger."

The importance of the other man’s words pulled him out of his pained haze, and his head spun with the information. He didn’t know if he should believe it or not, but in his vast experience with the Goa’uld, Teal’c had learned to never underestimate them in any way. In any case, it did not matter if the story was valid or a figment of a grieving man’s imagination; Daniel was baring a part of himself that he had locked away for weeks and Teal’c could only encourage him. If he could do nothing else, this he could.

"Have you?" he whispered. "Will you ever be able to forgive my actions, Daniel?"

Startled, Daniel’s eyes widened at the casual use of his name. He blinked several times, then his eyes skittered around the room as if unable to maintain contact with him. Darkness approached, emotionally as well as physically.

"I..I’m not sure, Teal’c. I understand why you had to shoot Sha’uri, but I’ve never actually forgiven you. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that," Daniel thickly admitted.

"I understand." Teal’c’s heart sank. Selfishly, he had hoped for complete absolution in the face of death. 

"No, Teal’c. You don’t. I may not be ready yet but I will be someday and I’m not willing to let our friendship suffer. I know I haven’t been much for company lately, but I’m working on it. I’ll keep trying, I promise. I just need more time."

Grateful for Daniel’s honesty, Teal’c took it at face value. He was fortunate to receive it. The promise of forgiveness was more than he would expect from anyone else. He coughed painfully and shivered, the cold from the floor invading his bare back. His strength was diminishing even more quickly.

"Thank you, Daniel," Teal’c whispered.

"What for?"

For so much.

"Teal’c, Teal’c! Don’t you fall asleep!" he heard Daniel cry out frantically. 

Teal’c tried to stay awake, to cling to consciousness but the world became dimmer and dimmer as he slid into oblivion. His last thought was that should he never wake, he could die in peace.

~~~~~~~~

He knew he shouldn’t take out his frustrations on Carter, so Jack kept his mouth clamped shut the entire hike back to the Stargate. Correspondingly, the fingers of his right hand gripped his MP5 so tightly that he was certain he was making permanent indents into the metal. His lungs heaved, as their pace had increased from a steady jog to a more strenuous clip. Cautiously, he glanced down at his watch. Another hour had slipped past, putting the timer at an hour and a half and counting. 

Images of Daniel and Teal’c in excruciating pain at the hands of a Goa’uld fueled his steps, though at the same time they hindered him by stealing his breath. None of it made sense to him. The only freaking Goa’uld who had valid reason to have a vendetta against Teal’c was dead, yet Jack swore the Jaffa had aimed directly for his big friend during the attack. Apophis had goddamned well better be dead. Because if he wasn’t, and if old Poppy had his missing team members…well, even he couldn’t scrape up enough optimism to believe they were going back to the ‘gate for a search and rescue team rather than a search and retrieval team. 

Blood. Pain. Torture. Daniel screaming and Teal’c crumpling with barely a fight.

"Sir…sir, we’ve got the ‘gate in sight." His 2IC’s breathlessness was slight, a bare indication of the physical stress she was experiencing. Looking sidelong at her, Jack’s gaze was redirected as she waved an arm ahead. "I’ll dial."

He nodded and Carter picked up her pace, shooting ahead of him. Watching her go, Jack wondered, and not for the first time, whether he had made an error in not following her suggestion of going directly back to the rocks…ruins…whatever. Ever since she had hinted that she felt the key to this whole mess was back there, the idea had niggled in his mind. If that were the case, which seemed more and more likely to him, was going back the Stargate a complete waste of time, a contradiction of his earlier assertion? What if the Goa’uld had already blocked it, preventing them from sending for help? Head aching from the simple contemplation of the possibility, he jogged the rest of the way to the DHD just as his 2IC was finishing the dialing sequence. It didn’t matter, it was too late. Either action on his part could have resulted in disaster for Teal’c and Daniel. Either one could have taken too much time. 

His friends could already be dead.

"Sir, I’ve been thinking," Carter said out of the blue. He jolted in time with the Stargate spiraling to life. Thank God, it worked. "You know how Daniel and I both were positive the UAV revealed those ruins? What if they really were ruins? What if the Goa’uld have developed a way to, I don’t know, transmit some sort of hologram rather than just making something invisible? They could have taken the Ree’tu technology and adapted it."

The desperation was obvious in Carter’s words and the fact that she was _still_ thinking about it made his self-doubt accelerate. A lump was forming in the pit of his stomach, cold and dense and monstrous. She so needed him to believe what she was proposing, and he chose to indulge her; to downplay his own concern with a refutation he didn’t believe. 

"Okay, say that’s the case. Why? It’s not like ruins of an ancient city are evidence of existing life on this planet. We can’t rule out the possibility that Daniel and Teal’c are far, far away from here."

"No, sir, I know that. But – "

The camera on the MALP, which Jack was never so glad to have left planetside on a mission, began to pan toward them, the mechanical whine halting Carter’s protest. In unison, they turned their attention to the small lens, their radios bursting with static.

"Colonel O’Neill, sir?" a timid voice called out.

"Get me General Hammond!" Jack instantly ordered.

"Yes, sir."

For several minutes, there was silence, cut only by his radio crackling as if someone was brushing the microphone in the control room with a rough cloth. Too long. Toolongtoolong. Rapping his cramped fingers on the MP5 in a nervous beat, Jack looked up at the mid afternoon sky. By the time they tromped back to the beginning, it would be dusk. 

"Colonel O’Neill, what’s your situation?" General Hammond boomed at last, and Jack jerked his gaze to the MALP camera. "You’re due back here in half an hour, why the break in procedure?"

Why, indeed. God.

"Sir, we’ve run into a bit of a problem here," Jack said, sounding far too casual for his own liking. He wanted to scream. "On the way back to the ‘gate, we were attacked by Jaffa. Teal’c and Daniel were captured."

"How long ago?"

"An hour and forty minutes. Sir, I need to request back up teams for the search and a whole mess of TERs. These particular Jaffa were of the invisible kind."

"What?"

"They appeared, snatched Daniel and Teal’c, and then disappeared. Daniel’s been injured, sir, and Teal’c…well, I don’t know, but we think there was something wrong with him."

"Wrong?"

Wrong! Goddamnit, they did not have time to do a play by play…

"Sir, if I may," Carter broke in. "What’s important here is that we have an unknown Goa’uld who has Teal’c and Daniel and that both of them have been physically compromised. We don’t think they’ve been taken off the planet and it’s vital we begin the search immediately."

What she said. 

"Right. I’ve got SG3 preparing for another mission right now. I can have them to you in ten minutes."

"Sir, I also think the Goa’uld have managed to modify the Ree’tu technology enough to not only use it to disappear but also disguise. I recommend we send a UAV rigged with TERs back to the ruins. If possible, if someone from the archaeological staff could help us determine who we’re dealing with, it might help. The only clue we have is they Jaffa tattoos are in the shape of a sledgehammer."

"Very well, I’ll work on both," Hammond agreed, though he could not have known the reason for the proposals. "Hammond out."

The Stargate blinked off. Jack could hear his watch ticking and he resisted looking at its face. Ten minutes. Such a short time but with nothing to fill it except more rampant thoughts of his friends suffering horribly while he stood here with his hands in his pockets. Shuffling from foot to foot next to him, Carter cleared her throat several times. He had a sudden impulse to muffle her and stop the aggravating noises. It was misplaced anger once again. 

"Sir, do you find it at all odd that we haven’t been ambushed? Why would a Goa’uld simply allow us to leave? It doesn’t make sense," Carter murmured, breaking the silence at last.

"No, Carter, it _doesn’t_ make sense. None of this does, but to quote an old cliché – I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth," he retorted. "If this Goa’uld, whoever he is, is stupid enough to ignore us then that’s something we can take advantage of."

"True, sir. I just…I’m not sure what that means for the others."

It was easy to fill in the blanks – it meant the Goa’uld was so blindly driven by something that he or she didn’t give a rat’s ass if he and Carter stormed the castle and tried to break up the invite-only party. That something had to be malevolent, and Jack suspected there was a good reason for the overconfident single-mindedness. Like perhaps the Goa’uld had weapons and Jaffa enough not to worry about any kind of infringement. God, stop. He had to stop thinking like that.

"It means we get them the hell out of wherever they are."

As he said it, he realized how completely vague the words were. They had no real idea what was going on, and that fact was entirely disturbing. But he had to hang onto the idea that, bottom line, they were dealing with a Goa’uld and follow the same tactics they usually did in such cases. A Goa’uld was a Goa’uld was a Goa’uld, after all.

"Of course. God, sir, it’s been almost two hours."

He knew all too well how much damage a Goa’uld could do in that amount of time, didn’t need Carter to reactivate the worry. It had never ceased. 

"Yes, it has."

"Do you think they’re –"

"Carter, will you can it?" he growled, closing his eyes when she gave an audible gasp at the rebuke. 

He didn’t have a chance to apologize as the wheel of the ‘gate started spinning, drawing their attention. Seconds after the blue wave gushed out and resettled, the UAV popped out of the middle of it. Instinctively ducking, Jack scowled at it as it took off.

"Cancel the UAV, repeat, do not send the UAV to the coordinates of the ruins!" Carter suddenly shouted, bumping into him as she lurched for the camera.

"Carter?"

"Sir, if we’ve been left alone…sending the UAV would broadcast we know the Goa’uld’s secret. If we’re right, it would be better to verify it on foot. Covertly."

"Stop that UAV!" Jack seconded without hesitation. To his relief, the buzzing of the remote control plane was already becoming louder as it returned to the Stargate. Bless General Hammond.

Squishing noises followed by heavy footfalls announced the arrival of SG3 and he turned around to greet them, finding them armed to the teeth. Makepeace extended two TERs to him and Carter, something of a smirk decorating his features. Bristling, Jack took the implement. He couldn’t pinpoint what specifically was so irritating about his comrade, but he could tell the other colonel walked a fine line between duty and fanaticism. Something about Makepeace had always rubbed him the wrong way.

"Heard you lost your little geek and the Jaffa, O’Neill."

And there was a good part of that something. Ignoring the comment, Jack turned to the MALP and said, "Thank you for stopping the UAV, sir. I agree with Carter that stealth is one of our only advantages here, and even that’s limited."

"I understand, Colonel. Godspeed and bring them home," Hammond simply said, then ended communication and shut down the ‘gate.

"Follow us and keep your men alert, Makepeace," Jack sharply said, keying up his TER in favor of the MP5. "We’ve been left alone so far but I don’t think we should count on that holding."

"Don’t worry, we’ll find your boys."

Boys, right. He wanted to point out that neither Teal’c nor Daniel were children but he held his tongue, conscious of the regretful fact that Makepeace and Company were the hands rocking the cradle. The hands feeding. The means to an end. God, he hoped Carter’s theory was correct. 

"Rothman’s best guess as to the identity of the Goa’uld is some Greek god of fire or something. Hephner…whatever. The myths apparently have him as the primary toy-builder for the gods as well."

"Hephaestus," Carter corrected, her voice rising in interested hope. "I remember the name now. Seems logical that that’s correct, sir, given the adaptations I think he’s made to the phase shifting technology…"

Whatever. Thinking about all the potential new Goa’uld weapons they might encounter was not productive. He waved a hand in the air to stop all conversation and led Carter and SG3 away from the Stargate. Tiredness of body and spirit overcame him as his mind again wandered to Teal’c and Daniel. If he hadn’t seen Teal’c taken down with his own eyes, he never would have believed his friend could be defeated by only two Jaffa. Bra’tac had taught his protégé well, and Jack was pretty sure that meant quite a bit in Jaffa terms. Teal’c must really have been hurting to fall so quickly. Must still be hurting. What could be wrong with him? 

And Daniel. He was proud of the way the archaeologist didn’t even hesitate to draw his weapon, bringing down one of his attackers efficiently. Luck may have played a bit part in that, but Jack was still impressed. It wasn’t enough, though. He was certain the younger man’s wound wasn’t life threatening in any way.

Augh. He had to stop flushing himself in that downward spiral, keep his head on finding his friends rather than reliving their capture or, worse, envisioning their possible fates. Pulling himself back into awareness, Jack looked around and was startled to note they had already made it back to the location of the initial attack. He trotted over and toed the dead Jaffa on the arm, grunting at the device strapped around it.

"Wouldn’t do any good, sir. It wouldn’t provide camouflage to the Jaffa if they were also phase-shifted," Carter murmured, answering his question before he had even really realized he was about to ask it. 

Sparing her a glance, Jack frowned at her nervous and scared expression and the way her face never wavered from its constant grimace of concern. He felt helpless as she looked, and he hated feeling like that. He hated that she felt like that. He hated all of this. Moving from the corpse, he took a deep breath and signaled for them to continue on with the journey. The sunlight was fading already, casting a little bit deeper blue across the landscape. If they kept up their pace, the atmosphere would be just dark enough to impede their vision. He pushed his tired muscles to work harder, picking up the pace. They all did.

Trusting Carter and SG3 to guard against hidden threats, he kept his eyes on the rough terrain as they ran. He concentrated on the soft grunts of exertion from his companions rather than his surroundings or grim thoughts, trying to think positive. They would reach the rocks, they would find Daniel and Teal’c, and his friends would be just fine. Just fine. Enveloped in that mantra seemed to make the time go by more quickly.

"Holy shit, will you look at that?" Makepeace growled, startling Jack from his mental wanderings.

Looking up, Jack pulled to a stop, amazed to see they had arrived at the large rock formations…only they really weren’t looking at rocks anymore. TERs trained on the site, Makepeace and SG3 stood with mouths agape, momentarily stunned by what the Goa’uld devices had revealed. Ruins. The UAV hadn’t read anything incorrectly. Before them, huge remnants of a great temple stood, crumbling under erosion and time. Smaller, utilitarian structures surrounded the once impressive monument, constructed of stone. Some were still in very good shape. Goddamn son of a bitch!

Teal’c and Daniel were here somewhere, they had to be. He wanted to give Carter a massive hug for being right. Now they just had to prove their friends were still on the planet. Here. And safe. Gesturing for Makepeace to take Fitzgerald and Hengel and scout off to the right, he nodded at Carter and Wolfe to follow him to the left. As Carter’s instinct had made her so sure, Jack now had a feeling the place they needed to look was the temple. Almost a quarter of it was still standing, revealing several gutted rooms.

Taking cover behind large protruding rocks…walls…he edged silently into the complex. The limited range of the TERs made their work incredibly difficult, the images before them flickering from reality to mirage at every turn. His heart was pounding in his chest, adrenaline pumping at the hope his missing companions might soon be found. Jack turned his head to Carter as they approached the first room, flashing his intentions quickly. Uniformly, they entered the room and swept it for possible danger, Wolfe only seconds behind. Nothing. They surveyed the space carefully before inching back out into the open.

Heading for the next room, Jack paused and held up his hand. He could hear a faint scraping noise like stone on stone. Walking backward, he urged Carter and Wolfe to follow him back into the room they had just exited. Carter gave him a puzzled frown, which he answered with an impatient eyebrow lift. She nodded, bringing herself as close to the wall as she could. They waited nervously.

Crouching just on the inside of the door, Jack heard the odd noise getting louder, accompanied by metallic clanking. He would recognize that sound anywhere – the inattentive footfalls of a troop of Jaffa. He held his breath as the marching neared their location, uncertain how many of the enemy they were dealing with. It never failed to surprise Jack how _un_ -stealthy the Goa’uld and their minions could be. For a supposedly superior race of beings, they were pretty dense. He watched as fifteen of the brutes stormed by, led by a squat man with a severe limp and a nasty looking burn across his face. Perplexed, he shot Carter a different kind of eyebrow lift, questioning the strange sight. She returned with a half smile at him and a shrug.

As soon as the Jaffa were out of range, Jack hit his radio to warn Makepeace and his abbreviated team, but staff weapon blasts ripping through the air stopped him before he began. Shit, shit. The trio began to run cautiously toward the weapons fire, arms poised and ready to take out as many Jaffa as they could.

Jack still didn’t know how many to expect to follow from their hidden lair but it didn’t matter. They were so close now, and there wasn’t time to think. Assuming Makepeace had either blown cover or had stupidly engaged the Jaffa troop, he cursed under his breath. The goddamn marine was about as much help as a lump of coal. He couldn’t help but remember the ‘rescue’ led by the marine on Hathor’s planet. The jarhead had managed to get everyone captured, including Daniel. 

He halted his ill placed irritation, the distraction of it affecting his attention and skills. Now was not the time to rehash personal issues; Daniel and Teal’c needed all of them to get out of this. And Jack swore he’d kill every last Jaffa on this waste of a planet if that was what it took to find them. 

He would find them and they would still be alive.

~~~~~~~~

Daniel felt better, though better was a relative term. Considering the last thing he remembered before Teal’c’s heavy form beat him into consciousness again was Hephaestus going crazy and hitting his leg with the ribbon device, he thought a little wooziness and a dull throb from his wound were quite acceptable. For himself, anyway. More than his own physical problems, he was concerned about the man lying next to him, too still, too hot and too sick. He didn’t want to be right in guessing the Goa’uld’s new weapon, but Teal’c’s condition told him he was. He lifted his hand, brushing it across his friend’s damp forehead in a sad attempt to offer comfort. Nothing he could do now would really help the other man. Wiping his sweat-slicked palm down his left thigh, he sighed deeply.

What little Teal’c had been able to tell him before passing out assured him that Hephaestus had abandoned his plan to take him as his new host. At least for now. He replayed his rude awakening into full consciousness, three hundred or so pounds of bulky Jaffa slamming into him. It had been surreally funny at the time, but Daniel found nothing amusing now. 

It was quiet. Glaring up at the wide-open, inaccessible exit to their prison, Daniel speculated at the audacity and overconfidence of the Goa’uld for leaving him and Teal’c completely unguarded. When Jack and Sam came, and they were coming, they would find it laughably easy to free them. Worriedly, he stroked Teal’c’s forehead again. A soft moan came in response, a sign of returning coherency but not one he really wanted to hear. He studied his friend’s waxy face and he knew time was running out; if Teal’c didn’t get help soon he would die. At the very least, if he could get back to Earth, where Doctor Fraiser could work her magic and keep him alive for just a little longer until they figured out how to fix this.

"Just hang on, Teal’c," he whispered, more for himself than the unconscious man.

Shifting around so he leaned against the cold wall, Daniel drew his left leg up toward his chest and gingerly stretched his right out in front of him. He kept a hand on Teal’c’s shoulder, rubbing the lax muscles in a small, circular pattern. Wait, it seemed, was all he could really do. Wait for rescue or damnation. Gently tapping the back of his head against the face of the rock, he stared at the gleaming water on the far side of the sinkhole. Teal’c’s breath sounds were becoming more and more shallow, so much so that he turned his head to watch the slight rise and fall of his friend’s chest.

His friend. 

His earlier, finally vocalized revelations had eased the subtle but disquieting misgivings he had been feeling toward Teal’c since Sha’uri’s death. In the three years they had known each other, Teal’c had shown him the utmost respect and courtesy but Daniel had always sensed the Jaffa’s extra reservation with him. He could easily attribute that with the fact that out of the members of SG1, he was the one with the least in common with the Jaffa warrior. He tried not to focus on other, more personal reasons why he and Teal’c were distant, the memories only served to embitter him. And his friend had never deserved that. He didn’t deserve it now, even after…

"God, Sha’uri," he quietly said, voice catching in his throat. 

He hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant for the feelings to swell up inside again, not when he’d only just managed to work through the worst of them. Life had been a fog, shapeless, unclear and empty despite the denseness of mist marring his existence for so long…not long enough. It had only been several weeks. A month of unspoken calls for him to move forward and on with his life, from those around him as well as an internal need to do so. Bury the sadness, focus on other things, as if that would make the loss less real.

It was a task he was ill equipped to handle, because around every corner, in every airman’s shoddily masked sympathetic and curious stare, were reminders of the truth of his existence. There was nothing now except an insane dream given to him by his beloved wife, which he could not say or do anything about. He had tried to research the Harcesis, to understand the message she had imparted through the ribbon device. But doubt festered about whether he had actually experienced such a thing, or if his desperate mind had conjured it up to help ease the pain. 

But the pain hadn’t been relieved, and though his dream Sha’uri had insisted he not blame Teal’c, Daniel had found that easier said than done. His escape into research had led him nowhere but to thoughts of how his Jaffa friend might know something vital, and every time he thought that he had been overcome with a physical ache so strong he had had to hunch over to rid himself of it. Eventually, he had put away his books and tried to forget it all.

"Daniel…Amaunet…must…" Teal’c’s weak voice impaled his thoughts. "Please forgive…I cannot…you die, Daniel…I must, I must…"

Unconsciously, his left hand tightened on the shoulder as the meaning behind Teal’c’s feverish words settled in. Much reasoning wasn’t necessary for him to understand his friend was reliving the moments just prior to Sha’uri’s death. It had felt so good to share his secret at last, a burden that he hadn’t realized was so heavy taken off his shoulders. Good for him, but it appeared not so good for his friend. Regret filled him at not being able to give Teal’c what he most wanted, even when the other man was so close to death. Forgiveness.

"I’m so sorry, Teal’c, I’m trying. Please hear me. Please."

"No choice…none…you…needed in fight, Daniel…"

Oh…God. The words might just as well have been a dagger plunged straight into his gut. Bending over, Daniel rested his head on his left kneecap and tried to stem the tears that had sprung up in his eyes. Teal’c moaned as his fingers dug deeper into flesh, and he released his grip as if his hand were on fire. Huddled, he brought the hand up and grabbed a fistful of his own hair as he burrowed his face in the space between his leg and chest. 

"No!" Teal’c roared, much more loudly than Daniel would have imagined possible. Jerking up, he blearily saw that his friend’s eyes were open and wide with horror. "No, I do not want…I am sorry, Daniel."

Arching his back slightly, Teal’c appeared ready to rise up. Daniel blinked and peered at his friend, realizing that although he appeared conscious, Teal’c was in a state of delirium. Frightened, he uncurled from his protective crouch, awkwardly scrambling to his left knee in a mutated, half genuflection. He leaned down, bracing the feebly flailing body with his own until he was almost sprawled on top of the larger man. 

"Shh, Teal’c, it’s okay. Please, you have to calm down," he murmured. "You’re just dreaming, it’s not real. It’s not real."

But it _was_ real, this anguish he heard in Teal’c’s voice and it tore into him, cutting him wide open. His throat closed off, halting the attempts to comfort his friend with lies. He just lay there, gently grasping Teal’c’s shoulders in a quasi hug and burying his face in his own shirt, which he had wrestled onto the ailing man, like a coward, the broken words resounding over and over in his head. Giving one last incoherent mutter, his big friend finally settled down, the round of restlessness apparently over. It wasn’t over for him, though. Daniel continued to struggle against the high emotions pitching through him. 

_  
_

Daniel Jackson, it pleases me greatly that once again you value my knowledge.

The words had been spoken by an unreal Teal’c, but they struck him again now as they had then. Not the face value of them – the sadness in the tone, as if Teal’c had realized how he had really not been ready quite yet. The understanding that the day might never come where Daniel could look at Teal’c and not see the person that had killed his wife. Acceptance that life was now warped from what it had been, cruel and cold. Harsh. 

What had he done? 

"I’m sorry, Teal’c," Daniel choked out, unable to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks any longer. They washed a hot trail into his skin, rolling off his face to land on Teal’c’s already wet shoulder. "I didn’t know."

He hadn’t known how greatly Sha’uri’s death and his subsequent avoidance…shunning…of Teal’c was impacting the other man. Shame filled him, dueling with the immense sadness already there. He should have seen it, should have taken what he knew of his friend and not been blinded by his own consuming pain. Years ago, during the trial on Cartago, Daniel had found the strength to finally look analyze his relationship with Teal’c in great detail. He had been surprised to learn that he truly held no animosity against the Jaffa personally for his actions while under the service of Apophis. In fact, he was able to categorize Jaffa race in general as suffering as much under the Goa’uld as the humans they subjugated.

Nothing Teal’c had ever done since that time had indicated otherwise, his personal character shining through many, many times. The Jaffa’s will and determination to aid his fellow people proved to him over and over that most of them were innocent of the atrocities they were forced to participate in. Some may be as evil as the Goa’uld they served, but if there were those out there like Teal’c and Bra’tac, the race should not be condemned. Looking at the ill man lying next to him, Daniel suddenly realized that all of Teal’c’s actions were motivated by a selfless desire to aid many over the needs of one. 

It was something he had always known, had come to take for granted in light of his own selfish misery; Teal’c hadn’t killed Sha’uri. He had killed Amaunet. Not only for Daniel’s own life, but for all of the peoples she had enslaved. And, for some unfathomable reason, his friend believed he, Daniel Jackson, was important in the fight against the Goa’uld, a belief Daniel wasn’t sure he shared. But because of this, he couldn’t not forgive his friend. He cried for Sha’uri. He cried for Teal’c. 

"Daniel."

Sniffing, he raised his head and looked into Teal’c’s face to find his friend had pulled from his fevered state and was watching him with an expression so deeply sorrowful he had to avert his eyes. Letting go, Daniel backed off of his friend’s body and lost the warmth he had gained from the embrace. He shivered as the dank coldness of the sinkhole chilled his bare torso, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"Teal’c." So much to say. He didn’t know where to begin.

"Are you well?" Teal’c asked. 

Was he well? One last sob escaped his lips at the inquiry, and he closed his eyes in shame once again. 

"I’m fine."

"You do not appear so."

"Neither do you," he murmured, returning his gaze to Teal’c. God, what was he doing? Here was his chance to give some modicum of assurance to his friend and he couldn’t muster more than a word or two at a time. "Teal’c…"

"I have little time, Daniel Jackson."

No. No! 

"Don’t talk like that. Jack and Sam are here, you heard Hephaestus’ Jaffa. You just have to hold on a little bit longer." 

"I do not think I can," Teal’c whispered, closing his eyes and going limp.

For the second time since their incarceration, Daniel panicked. He desperately called, "Teal’c, you have to wake up!"

There was no response. Fear that he really was to late to repair the fractures he had caused in their friendship escalated as he shakily probed Teal’c’s neck for a pulse, so dramatic was the sudden limpness. His fingers were numb, impairing his task to the point he thought there was nothing to feel. No, there! God, thank God. Weak and reedy though it was, there was a pulse. Daniel collapsed on his friend once more, wholly disturbed the rattle abiding in Teal’c’s chest with each scant inhalation.

He couldn’t let this happen. Launching backward, he forgot his own twinging body and surveyed the small enclosure. There had to be a way out of here; he couldn’t wait for Jack and Sam. He had to get out now, find them and bring them here. His eyes lit upon the rough opening in the ceiling and noticed it was quite near the adjacent wall. Quickly scanning it, he saw craggy outcroppings of rocks all along the height of it and debated his chances of successfully scaling it the entire twenty feet expanse.

He had to. Testing how far he could move his right leg before the pain became too great, Daniel was pleased to find he had a fair range of motion. It was still extremely tender, but not so much so that he couldn’t use it. He sucked in a deep breath and scrambled to his feet, carefully determining how much weight he could place on his leg. It was shaky but it held full weight. Cringing, he resolutely eyed the small summit once again, eyes tracking down the wall and landing on his friend’s motionless form. Teal’c was too close to the wall; if he had problems, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt his friend any more than he already was. Grabbing the big man’s arms, he tried to drag him away from the opening.

"God, Teal’c…you really _do_ …weigh…a ton!" Daniel grunted from the exertion and the awkward way he had to move, heavily favoring his right leg. 

He slowly inched Teal’c over almost two feet, wincing with every soft moan his friend uttered. It took several minutes but finally Daniel was satisfied, and he leaned against the cool wall to rest. He wasn’t sure if he’d heated up because of the activity or if it was getting warmer in their prison. There was also a decent risk of infection from the unclean environment, he admitted. Trying not to dwell on that possibility, he relegated it to the back of his mind as a factor that wasn’t important. Infection was the least of his concerns, at least his own. 

Moving to the wall with single-minded resolve, Daniel searched for the best footholds, scouting the wall and mentally projecting the path to take. To his relief, it looked to be a simple climb and the height of the wall wasn’t such that he could seriously hurt himself if he fell. Which he wouldn’t. Sucking in a deep breath, he began.

Hand over hand, biting his lip against the pain shooting from his leg, Daniel scaled the wall at a snail’s pace. The need to hurry played in the back of his mind and he sneaked glances back down at to his friend intermittently. Though he knew there was nothing he could do for the Jaffa from his position, he wanted to make sure Teal’c was still breathing. It was frightening to see the big man so ill.

After what seemed like an eternity, Daniel finally reached the opening. He grasped the edge and pushed himself up with his left leg, body leaning precariously backward at a slight angle. The wall sloped more than he was comfortable with, but it was workable. Hands white knuckled with tension, he was waist high out of the hole when a loud voice from behind him made him start mightily.

"Daniel!"

His body reflexively jerked and before he knew it, his hands were slipping. Daniel scrabbled to regain control, but it was no use. He fell, bitterly cold air whooshing past him as he made a not so graceful descent back into the pit.

~~~~~~~~

Her CO’s frustrations had been clear from the moment Daniel and Teal’c had literally vanished before their very eyes, which was completely understandable. In fact, Sam shared his feelings one hundred percent. Now, though, his body radiated aggravation in such vast amounts she wouldn’t be surprised if he was toxic to be around. Within a minimal fifty foot radius. Glancing nervously over at Wolfe as they skulkily trailed after Colonel O’Neill in pursuit of the noisome band of Jaffa, she wanted to see if she was the only one to pick up on the heightened tension. His face was awash with pure, driven concentration. Just like a good marine.

Not that she found fault with the colonel’s emotion, she continued to obsess; that wasn’t it at all. There was something different about how he was behaving now compared to earlier, though. It was more than good, old-fashioned worry about their missing friends. If she didn’t know the colonel was a consummate professional, despite what his outward appearances sometimes indicated, Sam would think this…pissiness was because of a personal vendetta. It couldn’t be with Hephaestus, since they had never encountered him before. No, it was more as though her CO was irritated with Colonel Makepeace. As far as she knew, though, the only issue of contention between the two colonels was a distinct difference in command style and so none of this made sense.

But she was glad a thousand times over that she was Air Force, and that Makepeace was not the leader of her team.

A sharp but soft whistle jarred her, making her blink and she felt her cheeks color as she realized she had let her mind wander. Her feet, however, had stopped. Way to be a better-than-average Air Force major. Combat trained and experienced. Always at the ready. Scowling at herself, Sam scooted to catch up with the colonel and Wolfe and noted her CO was giving her what had to be a mirror image of her own expression. She didn’t need to be chastised in any way, shape or form. It was abhorrent of her to have let herself think about anything other than the mission at hand. About what might be happening…or have already happened to Teal’c and Daniel. In away, though, she had needed that reprieve because now that she had reintroduced the primary objective, she was heartsick all over again. If they didn’t find them today, if this was some ploy to mislead them…

No. They were close, she could sense it. 

As her intuition had led her to believe the ruins were where she and the colonel should have gone instead of back to the Stargate – which, in hindsight, would have been a mistake – Sam was suddenly overcome with a feeling that pursuing the Goa’uld and his Jaffa wasn’t necessarily the best course of action. She was torn; she knew they had to help Makepeace, yet the Jaffa attack significantly increased their chances at locating the entrance to the Goa’uld’s hideout undetected. With the enemy distracted by SG3, someone could enter the complex and find Daniel and Teal’c without having an entire army of Jaffa to deal with. 

"Sir, do you think – "

"Zsst," the colonel harshly cut off her whisper, jabbing two fingers at his eyes, shifting them quickly to point straight ahead.

Wincing, Sam peered around the stone doorframe and took in the scene before her. Knew there was no choice. Staff blasts were coming from nowhere and everywhere, from all conceivable angles. Shit. They had just waltzed into the ruins without any covertness at all. Wondering how quickly their presence had been detected wasn’t productive; chances were the Jaffa had seen them before they had even entered the destroyed settlement. Foolish, all of them, for letting their guards down. Even Makepeace, the tough as nails Marine. Perhaps he was a little more human than she gave him credit for and truly did care about Daniel and Teal’c. Grasping her weapon tightly, Sam ducked her head back under cover.

There was no way they could unveil every single inch of the battlefield with their TERs, and she, the colonel and Wolfe couldn’t risk much of a change in venue without eliminating the element of surprise. Clearing his throat softly, her CO snagged her attention. He abruptly signaled that he was taking Wolfe to the left, toward the bulk of the fighting, and that she should maneuver around to join Makepeace, who was cornered behind a tattered stable. Or something. Daniel would…the thought of her archaeologist friend got her moving. Waving the active TER around to ensure none of the enemy were near or at least aware of her, Sam plastered herself low to the ground and moved awkwardly to the Marine colonel.

The closer she got, the closer to her person the staff blasts came, until she realized they were so because they were aimed _at_ her. Severely off the mark, the shots ranged from just over her head to a good three feet in front of her. Obviously these Jaffa weren’t really experienced in battle. It was a weakness she and her companions wouldn’t let go to waste. Scrambling quickly, she let go of any notion she could return fire until she reached safety. She could see Makepeace’s eyes on her, was confident he’d guarantee her back was covered.

Scorching about two inches above her head, a staff blast tore a huge chunk out of the wall. She let out an involuntary squeak and fell flat on her face as detritus flew at her, dust and tiny rock fragments. Not fast enough, grit got into her eyes, blinding and leaving her wide open, defenseless. She slithered on her belly, eyes watering in a frantic effort to clear. Before she had made much progress with either, she felt an intense pressure under her arms and she flew, body losing control as it took off. The world was a crazy jumble for a few seconds, then everything stopped and she landed with an ‘oof’ on something semi-soft.

"Now’s not an appropriate time, Major. I’ll take a rain check, though."

Makepeace. Irritation sparked, accelerating the production of tears. The first image she saw was the smirking face of the colonel. The second was a huge Jaffa bearing down on their awkward position, revealed by her still activated TER. Squirming, Sam pretended not to notice Makepeace’s grin grow larger and rolled off him the same moment she shot her weapon. The Jaffa exploded from the TER’s destructive force and she nearly vomited. 

"Well, now I’m not so sure I want a piece of your action, Major Carter," Makepeace deadpanned as they both scurried behind a large pedestal in the middle of the half torn apart room. She glared at him, and he sobered immediately. "Thanks for that. Guess we should count ourselves lucky the damn Jaffa aren’t using these things."

She nodded, unable to speak yet, still horror-stricken at the obliteration of the Jaffa. She’d forgotten how…she’d forgotten. Swallowing the bile that had risen into the back of her throat, Sam had to agree with Makepeace’s point. They were fortunate. At least the staff weapons’ power was relatively precise, making chances of survival just that much bet…wait. Wait a minute, why weren’t the Jaffa using TERs, or even more powerful weapons? If this Hephaestus was the maker of new and adapted technology, logic dictated that they would use it. Another tactical error?

"Carter, Makepeace, what’s your status?" her CO’s voice cut out of her radio. She jumped.

"We’re good, O’Neill. You?"

"Hit three Jaffa, no sign of the little guy they had with them."

"We’ve taken one down, Fitzgerald and Hengel another two. How many are we looking at?"

"Fifteen or so, sir," Sam muttered the same time Colonel O’Neill provided the same estimate.

"They keep ducking off our radar. I need you two to circle around, hit them from all angles."

"Right, Makepeace out," the Marine colonel spat, ending communication with a murmur about too much chit-chat. "Hengel and Fitzgerald are about forty feet to our right. I’m going to join them. You’re going somewhere else."

"Sir?" she asked, heart racing with hope.

"The way I see it, this is the perfect chance for someone to go grab Jackson and the Jaffa. You’re the obvious choice."

She ignored his unspoken but clear in tone gibe against women in the military, choosing to focus on the initial part of his message. However big of a jerk Makepeace was on a personal level, she had to respect his command if not his style. Overconfidence might lead way to arrogance for him, but that he understood how widely the door had been left open for locating Teal’c and Daniel lessened her irritation. Nodding, she retreated carefully back the way she had come as he went the other direction. Loud bumps and increased staff blasts indicated his movement did not go undetected, and she speculated whether he had been purposely incautious so her route would not be noticed. She did not look back until she reached the relative safety of the temple.

A huge part of her didn’t want to leave her comrades to the battle, and she hesitated. Glancing over to Makepeace, Fitzgerald and Hengel,, she saw they had themselves fairly well stockaded and were plugging away at the Jaffa. She relaxed more when she targeted her CO and Wolfe, who were also secure.

"Go, Carter," Colonel O’Neill’s voice hissed over the radio. "Go find them. We’ll get this under control in a few."

She waited no more, encouraged by his support, though a bit perplexed he knew her intentions. Imagining his brown eyes shining both with worry and the need to get to Daniel and Teal’c himself, she crept along the empty corridor of the temple, hoping she was right about the Goa’uld’s lair being just as vacant. And easy to find. She nearly laughed out loud as an ajar door gave away what she supposed was to be a secret entrance, as the stone of the door blended perfectly with the rest of the wall. Carelessness was not a typical trait she’d associate with a Goa’uld, though, and she proceeded carefully.

The tunnel she entered was dark, lit only by rustic lamps hanging on the walls every ten feet or so. They alternated sides, creating pockets of shadowy, dangerous darkness. Instinctively, she widened her eyes and fumbled for her flashlight, flicking it on with a slight sigh of appreciation revealed she was alone. Swinging her TER back and forth, Sam picked her way through the damp corridor, body tensing with every step. So close now. Her friends were so close, she could feel it.

Gradually lightening, the tunnel opened up into a large, overly warm room. Stickiness filled the air, humidity from the cool wetness of the hallway in contrast to the heat. She started sweating almost instantly. Disregarding the uncomfortable change, she scanned the room in search of cloaked Jaffa. Pleased when she found none, she curiously examined the room, easily identifying it as some kind of blacksmith shop. Without the horses. Tools, partially completed weapons and a gigantic furnace filled most of the space. Snorting at the antiquated feel of the place, she had to wonder if this was some kind of joke. Surely the Goa’uld mastermind of weaponry would have better facilities than this.

Didn’t matter. The disparity between her belief of all Goa’uld and the reality of the room were mysteries she could figure out later, with Daniel’s help. Daniel. Teal’c. That was who she was here for, after all. She shook her head, the hair on the back of her neck prickling slightly. Eyeing the dark doorways found on opposite sides of the room, she aimed for the one on the left, still using her TER to guide the way. She couldn’t shake the uncanny feeling that she was being observed, though her scans continued to show nothing. Shuddering, she worked beyond the eeriness, swallowing the childish fear. So childish, her brain kept supplying ‘One, two, Freddy’s gonna get you…three, four, better lock your door…’ when she remembered the scarred man leading the Jaffa. She didn’t need to know who he was to know there was something frightening about him.

Closing her eyes briefly as she reached the door, Sam breathed deeply and rounded the corner. Childish fear gave way to very real, very adult fear – before her lay a more modern laboratory, filled with vials and implements and two high tables, rectangular and just long enough for human bodies. The leather restraints, with rusty stains circling all around them on the wood, made her stomach flip. Old stains, not from her friends, she told herself. Not. Tracing over the surface, her eyes locked and froze on a much larger, much fresher stain. In the middle of the table. Daniel’s leg. There wasn’t a lot of blood but it was enough to know just how deep her friend’s wound was. Tearing her eyes away from the gruesome red, she ventured a look at the other table. Smaller smudges spattered that one, and she was sure they were from Teal’c. That her Jaffa friend had been tortured. Beaten.

God, she needed to find them.

Snapping into action, Sam abandoned the room and, losing some of her wariness, raced back through the furnace room toward the only other possible place her friends could be. The other doorway led to another dim tunnel, so much like the entering corridor that she thought she had stupidly gone down it in error. The deeper she went, the more convinced she was that that wasn’t the case, the air getting clammier, as if she were traveling further underground. 

However, she did start to get anxious that her friends weren’t here at all, that Hephaestus had somehow transported them away. Sick with that thought, she leaned against the wall for a moment, the only sound reaching her ears was her own increasingly erratic breathing. She sounded strained, overtaxed. Frowning, she held her breath and jolted upright when she realized the labored sounds weren’t coming from her at all, but from a point down the tunnel. She ran.

Sam ran until she came to a slight bend, where she pressed herself close to the wall and tentatively poked her head around. And saw the most beautiful sight in the world – Doctor Daniel Jackson’s head and shoulders protruding from a wide hole in the ground, still strange shorn hair an identifying marker even from the back.

Without thinking about her friend’s potentially precarious position, or required stealth on her own part, Sam shouted, "Daniel!"

Mistake, mistake. Before the echo of her cry faded, Daniel violently jerked, his hands scrabbling along the smooth rock floor for purchase. She ran to give him help, knew halfway there that she was going to be too late. He grunted, a pained, panicked sound and disappeared back into the opening with startling speed.

"No, Daniel!" she called. Oh, God, she hoped the fall wasn’t far enough to kill, desperately ignoring the factoid that popped into her head – that any fall a greater distance than a person’s height could do just that. Kill.

What if she had found her friends, only to be the cause of one of their deaths?

~~~~~~~~

Consciousness returned slowly, senses turning back on one at a time. Teal’c could not remember losing awareness at all, which frightened him terribly. Using that confusion to draw him closer to wakening, he strove also to alleviate it. The memories assailed him with sharp, abrasive suddenness; waking once before to find a crying Daniel Jackson lying on top of him like a blanket. He remembered the stark fear he had felt, never before had he seen the younger man show his emotions in such an open manner. Regret, deep and strong and unchangeable had filled him and he had wanted to weep himself. Because he had known a part of his friend’s sorrow was due to him. He remembered wanting to relieve his friend of some of the pain, had tried to do that. Had failed, the words he had been thinking refusing to surface. Instead, he had caused a terrified expression to warp across his friend’s face, transforming it into an awful mask of fear and pain, streaks of tears still staining flushed cheeks. 

He opened his eyes, wishing to eradicate those images from his memory. Replace them with a well Daniel, not one clearly suffering the effects of mistreatment. Suffering. Shivering, Teal’c himself felt quite poorly and knew that his time was indeed short. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he still needed forgiveness for in his life. For the transgressions against Daniel Jackson and so many others. They were burdens he knew his soul would carry with him, and would prevent him from being truly free. 

Rather than landing on his young friend, his opened eyes saw more images his fevered mind conjured. Daniel being turned into a Goa’uld, to be tortured for all time by the evil he had desperately wanted to see destroyed before his death. O’Neill and Major Carter, forced to face a former friend who was now an enemy. His son a slave for the rest of his life. 

"No," he whispered. He did not want to die. "No."

Blinking to clear the visions away, Teal’c was stunned when Daniel Jackson still did not appear before him. Had Hephaestus already come for his friend, while he lay senseless and unable to offer even the negligible protection of distracting the Goa’uld? He rolled onto his side, the movement requiring too much energy. Fearful adrenaline helped slightly, but the mere motion wasted him. Sagging, he struggled to keep his eyelids open, flicking his gaze about the chilled prison as if wanting to locate his friend would make it so. 

Muffled gasps and grunts called out to him, drawing his attention upward. There, twenty feet above him, was Daniel Jackson affixed to the rocky wall. Twisting slightly, the younger man looked back toward him, fumbling slightly with his hold. Teal’c held his breath, willing Daniel to maintain a strong grip on his handholds. His heart beat quickly, now with hope rather than dread as the archaeologist gave him a brief, wavering smile before turning back around to finish his clamber to freedom. 

Hoisting his left leg over the rim of the opening, Daniel had nearly reached liberation when Teal’c heard a loud exclamation coming from above. His young friend jarred violently, left leg falling back down through the hole and scraping along the wall. Skittering rocks tripped down, echoing through the cavern. Automatically tensing, he lifted his head off the cold ground, wanted to call out his alarm. Nothing came from his dry mouth but a croak as Daniel lost his provisional grip and plummeted backward.

Time slowed as Daniel’s body fell with amazing gracefulness, arcing thankfully away from the wall.

It returned to normal upon the resounding thud Daniel’s body produced as it impacted the ground. Wincing, Teal’c forced himself to wiggle his way over to the younger man, grunting and gasping in a similar manner the other man had just been exhibiting. Daniel was not doing so now, instead was disconcertingly wheezing with panicked strength. His friend’s mouth was agape, eyes widened and alarmed. Clasping Daniel’s arm, he rubbed his hand along its length, trying to soothe and quiet the archaeologist as he struggled to regain his breath.

"Daniel Jackson, you must calm down. Attempt to take slow breaths," Teal’c weakly coached.

To his relief, Daniel appeared hear him, and was stemming the urge to gulp with careful consideration. After several moments, his lungs relaxed enough to take in shallow rasps. Teal’c took a cursory look over the archaeologist’s limbs to ease his mind that no further damage had been done from the fall. The wound on his friend’s right leg bled again, but it did not look threatening. Appendages were all still attached and facing the right way, no broken bones. There might be impairment that his eyes could not see.

"Are you all right?" Teal’c vocalized his concern, coughing feebly from the effort.

"O-oh, s-sure…just…great!" Daniel raggedly gasped. "Wind…knocked out…that’s all."

"Ohmygod! Daniel!" a third voice called out from above them. After an abbreviated pause, his own name was called. "Teal’c!"

Teal’c switched his attention from the man lying next to him to the face peering down through the treacherous hole. Major Carter’s expression flashed from pained concern, to relief and then back to pained concern in the span of a second as she cried out to them. He managed a small smile for her benefit. Fearing it did not work as he had intended because her features distorted even more, he let the façade drop in favor of simply resting.

"It is good to see you, Major Carter," he greeted her, choosing to disregard the look. He wondered if she could even hear his pitiable voice, barely audible to his own ears.

"Are you both okay?" Major Carter continued as if she, indeed, had not heard him. "God, Daniel, I am so sorry!"

"It’s all right, Sam. I’m fine, just had the wind knocked out of me," Daniel panted again, seemingly reiterating the diagnosis for his own peace of mind. Teal’c frowned at the strange thought, but did not have time to pursue it as the younger man sat up and harriedly continued, "But Teal’c isn’t okay. We need to get out of here as soon as possible."

In any other situation, Teal’c might have found those words melodramatic and could almost hear O’Neill make a scathingly sarcastic comment toward the younger man. Now, though, he could only agree with Daniel. Never before had he felt so weak and helpless, considered himself fortunate to still be alive and afraid he would not be able to survive, though his other friends had arrived.

"Do you know what’s wrong with him? And where’s the Goa’uld? We only came across Jaffa and a crippled man…" 

"No, God! That _is_ the Goa’uld! He was forced by the System Lords to stay here with only a handful of Jaffa, to invent new weapons," Daniel hastily explained. "He’s crazy, Sam. He invented some type of weapon that essentially cuts off the Goa’uld larva from the Jaffa carrying it. I have no idea how he managed it. I do know he…Hephaestus…plans to unleash it on the System Lords and take over while their armies are, for all intents and purposes, merely human and dying in their weakened states."

"Do you know where or what it is?" Major Carter anxiously asked, head darting back up to watch for the enemy.

"No clue. I…uh…passed out for a bit. Does it really matter? All we really need to know is that Teal’c is suffering from its effects and we need to help him." 

Daniel’s voice increased in pitch and fervor as he reached the end of his reply, reminding Teal’c of the incessant, determined mosquitoes he had been introduced to on a ‘wilderness retreat’ O’Neill had forced him to take. Buzzing in his head, growing and growing and…igniting a faint memory. Something he had deemed incidental but might, in fact, be quite important.

"When we were traveling to the Stargate, moments before I began feeling unwell, there was a slight prick on the back of my neck, as though I had been bitten by an insect," Teal’c stated, attempting to make his words perceptible to the others. Message imparted, he closed his eyes and hoped his intelligent friends would draw the necessary conclusions.

"So…"

"If what Teal’c felt was the application of this biological weapon," Major Carter called, and he could tell from her tone that she was deep in thought, "then that’s a huge mistake on Hephaestus’ part. In order to infect an entire army of Jaffa, he’d have essentially do it one at a time…"

"Sam! That’s _not_ important," Daniel barked, slightly startling Teal’c from the lull in which he was falling. The younger man speech patterns were almost identical to O’Neill’s when the leader of SG1 reached the zenith of impatience. "We can do a run-down of all the possible scenarios the Goa’uld could use later. Now…now we have to get Teal’c out of here."

"God, right. Okay. I don’t see anything here to do that. Have you gotten out before? How?"

"Big hooks. Unpleasant. Sam, are you alone?"

"For the moment. The colonel and I got reinforcements from the SGC. He and SG3 are holding off the Jaffa."

Teal’c did not believe there was any possible way his friends could remove him from this place. He was going to die. He felt his body become increasingly calm, readying itself. 

"Okay, so we’re stuck until Jack can get here," Daniel glumly mused. There was a shuffle-bump off to his right, followed by a low curse. He could barely hear anything more than static, its vague haziness soothing him even further. The archaeologist’s voice temporarily increased in volume. "No. No, we can’t wait. Hephaestus _has_ to have an antidote somewhere. He has to. He couldn’t afford to have his own army infected accidentally."

The younger man’s words, while loud, sounded slow and heavy in Teal’c’s ears. The tenacity in them made him struggle against death one more time, but he could not seem to open his eyes. Could not move, could scarcely breathe. 

"Teal’c! Stay awake for me!" 

Shouting. Desperation. Fear. Shaking, jostling on both his arms. _I am sorry, Daniel Jackson_ **,** Teal’c thought, _I am sorry I cannot make proper amends to you_. 

"Sam! I have to get out of here…Hephaestus must have something in his lab!"

"Hold on! I’ll be right back. Just hold on, Teal’c." 

Teal’c was barely aware of his surroundings, but he heard her words and gleaned strength from them. For his friends, he could do no less than fight. Physically conscious only of the weight settling on his chest, he coughed weakly to relieve the pressure. It did very little good. He felt something new, his body being shifted and warmth take up occupancy behind him. 

"Teal’c, you have to hang on, okay?" Daniel whispered into his ear. It was a mantra he only wished would work. "We’ll find a cure for this, you can bet on it. Just don’t go anywhere, because I have something I need to tell you. I refuse to do it right now, so you’re just going to have to stick it out until we get back home."

Smiling at Daniel’s blackmail, Teal’c knew he had very little choice whether or not he survived. He also knew that Daniel Jackson realized this, but his stubborn friend refused to give up on him. It was an attribute he found highly admirable in all of his Tau’ri companions.

"I will try, Daniel Jackson," he tentatively agreed, relaxing into Daniel’s arms, allowing himself the comfort being offered.

~~~~~~~~

Watching Carter disappear into the temple, Jack wanted nothing more than to go with her. Knowing Daniel and Teal’c were probably only a few footsteps away from him was a distraction he knew he shouldn’t let interfere with the battle at hand, yet he couldn’t seem to stop it. He straightened, putting his attention back where it should be with new determination; the sooner they took care of this, the sooner he could go after his friends. A blast came unnervingly close to his position, so close he felt the heat of it. Ducking behind a giant slab of rock that used to be a wall, he swore and swiveled his TER around to find the source. 

The Jaffa were all around them now, a contradictorily endless wave and he nervously contemplated that there were more of them out here than he’d seen leave the temple. Perceptions tended to get messy in intense situations, though, and he had to believe that suspicion was incorrect. If not, they were screwed. No. There had been fifteen of them. Makepeace had downed three, he and Wolfe three. That left only nine to their five. Easy. He’d found the key was for him to work closely with Wolfe, one of them spotlighting, the other blowing the suckers away. It was a good system when his mind wasn’t wandering down dreaded ‘what if we’re too late’ paths. 

A grunt from Wolfe and a gory mass of body parts flew past his face. He blinked, instinctively jerking away and quickly glancing over to his companion to make sure it wasn’t him. Panting, the marine looked about a hair away from spewing his guts all over but he was still in one piece. God, these TERs did a whole mess of damage. Wincing, Jack pivoted slightly and lit up a few more careless Jaffa. Careless. Untrained in how to conduct battle maneuvers. He frowned at the inexplicability of that behavior, so unlike any Jaffa he had ever encountered. He surmised they weren’t really minions of a Goa’uld at all…though that conclusion didn’t completely make sense either. The gimped ringleader certainly didn’t look like a Goa’uld. Heck, he didn’t even look like someone who would accrue devoted followers.

Rapid semi-automatic fire from across the small courtyard told him Makepeace had abandoned the alien technology and he couldn’t blame the other colonel. The annihilative power of the TER was impressive if viewed on paper, but witnessing it first hand was another story. Even when used on Jaffa. He panned the device to the left and finally caught sight of the deformed human, crouching behind a nearby building with a malevolent grin on his face.

Who the hell was that guy? Jack didn’t have time to wait for an answer as everything seemed to happen at once. Another close blast followed immediately by pained outcry made him avert his gaze toward Wolfe, just as the unknown man’s eyes suddenly glowed. Shit! _He_ was a Goa’uld? Wolfe sprawled backward in seeming slow motion, ramming into him with a grunt, while the newly discovered Goa’uld raised a ribboned hand right in Makepeace’s direction, the marine completely unaware of what was about to happen. Grappling with his fallen comrade, he tried to aim his TER toward Hefewhatever, firing off multiple shots. None of them made their mark, though they did cause the alien to cease with his intentions.

Instead, the Goa’uld roared with strength that denied his physical appearance, turning his attack toward Jack. Barely seconds before the ribbon device blasted easily through the thick stone wall behind him, he lunged away and covering Wolfe’s body with his own. Debris rained down on his back, digging straight through his heavy vest and jacket. Once it stopped, he rolled several times before sliding onto his stomach and inching toward the safety of the large temple with Wolfe in tow. From inside, he pivoted, his TER seeking the Goa’uld again but it came up empty. Scowling, he glanced down to check his companion’s injuries. An ugly burn marred the other man’s left shoulder and arm, a grimace his face. 

"I’m fine, Colonel," Wolfe gritted out through clenched teeth. 

Right. Jack keyed his radio, "Makepeace, Wolfe’s been hit but still active. The human is not human. It’s the Goa’uld, repeat, it’s the Goa’uld. Over."

"You got a line?"

"Lost him. What’s your status?"

"We took out five more. Go, O’Neill."

Blinking, Jack was stunned by the authorization and automatically attempted a visual inventory on Makepeace and his men. The marines were holding their own, stalwartly plugging away at the small contingent of Jaffa. Struck once again by the baffling patterns they were following, he had a sick feeling that either a big, unfortunate surprise or this Hephaestus guy was way, way off balance. Either option left him cold but there was nothing any of them could do, only wait until whatever end revealed itself. 

Nodding briefly at Makepeace, who he was sure wasn’t watching him, Jack retreated down the path his 2IC had just taken. The hair on his arms prickled along his arms and down his back, inducing discomfort where the rocks had cut through his jacket. Probably broke skin, he thought. It really didn’t matter, not when something far worse was probably happening to Teal’c and likely Daniel. He had no solid foundation to base that assumption on, just belief that all Goa’uld reveled in the pain of others. Even the Tok’ra were relatively indifferent to the suffering of people, members within their own ranks included.

Carefully moving around rubble and constantly checking behind him for signs of the enemy, he finally came upon the location he estimated the Jaffa had come from. He was perplexed when there was no clue as to a door or another open chamber. Carter hadn’t returned, so he assumed she had been successful in finding the Goa’uld’s stronghold. Had there been danger, Jack knew his 2IC would have alerted him right away. Unless, unthinkably, something had happened to her. An ambush. More Jaffa. Capture. Torture. No. He dispelled the ideas; he hadn’t come this far to lose every member of his team. _Any_ member of his team, he corrected.

He stepped back, literally and figuratively, to figure out what to do next. Leaning on the cold wall, he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to clear his vision past the dusk-muted darkness. Something. There had to be something he could use to determine where to go. Glaring down at the floor, his eyes lit on a patch of thick dust, a vivid footprint leaping out at him. Make that half a footprint, and displacement of the track indicating the person who had left it had disappeared into thin air. Jack couldn’t see any overt evidence of a ring transporter, ruling out the notion that had half formed. 

Disappeared. Disappeared…a crazy, Scooby Doo idea popped into his head and he launched himself to that point, feeling along the wall with determination. He had to be right, it had to be here. His right hand snagged on a small protuberance; Jack halted all other movement and focused his energy on that spot. He manipulated his fingers around it, pushing, tugging, twisting until there was a familiar grinding sound and a section of the wall moved. A door. 

Jack aimed his TER into the gray/black interior and hoped he’d actually be able to see if it revealed anyone or anything. There was nothing, and he made his way into what turned out to be a long tunnel. His heartbeat increased with each footfall; despite his personal resolution that his team members were all fine, the fear wouldn’t abet until he actually laid eyes on each of them. Caution abandoned him and he took no notice of his surroundings as he hastily journeyed into and through a large, unpopulated work area, sweat instantly breaking out on his forehead from the furnace scorching heat in every direction.

He was deciding which of the two doors he found to investigate when faint voices reached his ears. Stopping in his tracks, Jack tilted his head toward the sound and determined it came from the right. He couldn’t distinguish who the people were that were speaking but his entire body tensed with anticipation that they were his friends. He changed his trajectory, gearing for the sounds with hope coursing in his veins. The tone of the voices was conversational, and he thought that could only mean his team was okay. Gliding noiselessly down the damp tunnel, he pressed his body closely to the cold wall and paused just before a bend in the cavern.

The voices crystallized. He grinned big and wide.

"Daniel, I found a rope. I need to figure out how to anchor and lower it down. Do you think you’ll be able to climb up?" Carter’s voice eerily floated its way back to him. 

"I already made it once without the rope, Sam, I think I can manage," Daniel retorted, sounding alive, well and downright snarky. "Just hurry."

Spurred by the desperation in the last two words Daniel spoke, Jack sprang around the corner just as Carter lowered a thick rope down a gaping hole in the floor. Presumably, down into the prison that housed Daniel and he hoped Teal’c. While he was excited to note his two team members were all right, the absence of the Jaffa’s ever-assuring voice was severely worrying. He flitted his eyes over his major in an innate, if unnecessary, confirmation that she was okay and noticed she hadn’t secured the rope at all, was merely holding it as if she’d be able to provide sufficient weight for Daniel. 

He rolled his eyes and called out to get her attention, "Carter!" 

"Sir!" She jerked and nearly lost grip on the rope. Drawing up to her side, Jack grabbed it and held on tightly as she continued to ramble. "What are you doing here? Are the Jaffa – "

"Makepeace has them under control. What’s the status?" Jack interrupted, bracing as weight applied to the rope. Peering down the gap in the floor. Daniel, was taking matters into his own hands and struggling up the rope. The younger man favored his right leg but had already made pretty good progress. "Daniel! You okay?"

Daniel flinched at the distraction, but maintained his hold on the rope. "Great, Jack. Just don’t talk to me right now, okay? A bit busy here."

Jack grinned widely at the young man’s impertinence, but it faded quickly as he looked beyond the swaying figure to the huddled one partially concealed in the shadows. "Teal’c?"

"He’s not good, sir. Daniel says this Goa’uld is Hephaestus, some type of weapons inventor. Apparently he’s not happy with the position he’s been relegated to, and has devised the ultimate weapon to fight the System Lords – which he intends on doing. Daniel thinks it’s some sort of chemical or biological weapon. From what little information we have, we think it’s administered either through injection," Carter relayed quickly. "Remember Teal’c reacting as though he’d been stung by something?"

"Y-yeah…" 

He remembered all too well how quickly the Jaffa had begun exhibiting then unexplainable physical anomalies. He didn’t want to imagine the nature of this weapon, though it wasn’t difficult to do so. If humans could come up with such terrible things as Agent Orange and mustard gas, what monstrosities would a Goa’uld come up with? Jack shuddered and unconsciously tugged on the rope. 

"Careful!" Daniel snapped from down below. "A hand here, please?"

Jack frowned grimly at his friend’s continued irritable mood, knowing that generally only ill health caused Daniel to be short with anyone. Leaning down, he and Carter grasped Daniel’s arms, giving the younger man a tug until he was sprawled on the ground and panting for air. Upon closer inspection, he decided his teammate didn’t look all that great. He was extremely pale, sweaty and he noticed the leg wound he’d received was bleeding. He squatted down next to the archaeologist, concern sneaking its way back into his mind.

"Hey, Daniel. You all right?" Jack softly asked again, roughly patting the other man on the shoulder.

"I’m _fine_ , Jack." No, the archaeologist was definitely not fine. It was hard to say for sure in the dim light, but Jack swore Daniel’s face had gone from pale to sick grayish green. "This weapon of Hephaestus’ somehow cuts off the larva from its Jaffa, rendering him weak and susceptible to illness. I think it doesn’t completely work, or Teal’c would have been dead long ago. He’s holding on, but it’s only a matter of a few hours, if that."

God. Jack didn’t need any more detail than that. Bending over the opening again, he clenched his jaw at the frailty of his sturdy friend, obvious even from a fair distance. Daniel trembled under his hand, faintly vibrating from tension and concern. And illness. Letting go, he moved his hand up to swipe it across his face in frustration.

"Okay, so did this Hephe guy happen to tell you if he’s created some kind of cure for it?" Jack tersely asked.

"Not that I can recall. I’m really hoping he’s done so, to protect his own Jaffa in case of accidental infection," Daniel said with a hopeful lilt, sitting up quickly. 

Scowling, Jack watched the other man sway slightly as if dizzy and attempt to disguise the action. He frowned both at Daniel’s words and the indicator he was unwell. Not that he could recall? What did that mean? He decided to let it slide for now, Teal’c’s life weighing in the balance seemed a bit more urgent matter. As long as Daniel was still somewhat okay and remained that way…

"Daniel, you stay here with –" 

"No, I should help look for answers," Daniel stubbornly cut him off. 

"Daniel –" 

"Jack, can either you or Sam read Goa’uld? Think about it. We have no idea what we’re looking for and I’m the best person to find it if it’s even here. Barring that, we need to start getting ready to move Teal’c."

Jack paused and blinked several times at the authoritative tone Daniel was using. Command voice. He had to smile and admit the archaeologist had a point but looked about a step away from dropping. Noting the jaw set determinedly, the stubborn will flashing in the eyes, he sighed heavily and turned to his second in command, "Carter, stay with Teal’c. See if you can set up some way to lift him out of there. Daniel and I’ll be back as soon as we can."

"Yes, sir." 

Carter looked decidedly worried, picking up the rope and handing it to him to hold as she lowered herself down. All reservations aside, Jack knew this was the way it had to go down until Makepeace came through for them and let them know the Jaffa threat was gone. Sighing, he turned to Daniel, who had clambered to his feet and was currently trying to surreptitiously brace against the wall for support. 

"Ready, Daniel?" he asked. God, he hated this. His teammate was in no shape to go gallivanting around on even a basic task. But it was a choice between making Daniel suffer a bit for the potential lifesaver for Teal’c. 

And, really, there was no choice at all.

~~~~~~~~

"As I’ll ever be, Jack," Daniel murmured, forcing himself to break his reliance on the wall to stand…waver…free and clear.

There was actually nothing he wanted more than to lie down on the ground and sleep. The past…how long had he and Teal’c been here? Teal’c. Daniel tried to collect his scattered thoughts, the task becoming more and more difficult to do. His mind spun uncontrollably, a dizziness that seemed to also influence his vision. He trailed a hand along the bumpy wall to keep his pace steady, the space in front of him seeming to wave in and out sickeningly. Shivering at the onset of cool air washing over him, he wrapped his left arm around his torso to retain as much heat as he could. He lurched when he felt a firm hand clamp on his shoulder and stared at the intruding appendage.

"Hey, Daniel. Stay with me here," Jack gently encouraged.

Why was he feeling so utterly awful all of a sudden? Daniel mutely nodded and allowed Jack to keep the grip on him. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed at his acquiescence, but he didn’t have time to think about it. Teal’c needed help. Teal’c. He needed his Jaffa friend to survive so he could, selfishly, release his own burden. The furnace radiated warmth back into him as Jack led him around the big room, and he shivered from the contrast. Gazing blearily at the Goa’uld weaponry lying around, he searched for anything that might look like it could be a remedy. No, all of this stuff was armory. Hephaestus must have honed his skills from the customary tools…the other room. 

"Jack, not here. There," Daniel whispered, waving a floppy arm toward the room Hephaestus held he and Teal’c before.

Jack upped his support of Daniel, grasping him about the waist and practically carrying him to the doorway. He wanted to protest the action as unnecessary, but he knew his friend knew better. Pausing at the door and propping him up against the wall, Jack entered the room to do a sweep with the TER before gathering him back up and carting him into the room. He surveyed the room with the same blurriness of vision and wholeheartedly wished he’d been able to stay conscious long enough to obtain any useful information from Hephaestus. He hadn’t even had much chance to take in his surroundings. Jack stared at him, waiting for any indication he spotted something. The room was scattered with multiple implements, half finished weapons and the walls were lined with small hand-held devices, but nothing looked like it might be related to the chemical from which Teal’c was suffering effects.

Brows set in concentration, Daniel removed himself from the other man’s support and staggered toward one of the tables. God, it was cold in here, and the frigid atmosphere ate away at his already limited attention. He noticed built in drawers on the underside and leaned in for a closer look. Next to him, Jack pried the drawers open enthusiastically. Lined along the bottom of the drawer, Hephaestus had stored logbooks of some sort. He mused at the oddity of a Goa’uld actually keeping record on paper, finding himself grinning stupidly. Jack shook him back to his senses and they moved to the next table to continue their search.

The drawers of the table– the one he had been strapped to – were filled with containers of minerals and liquids. Daniel squinted in an attempt to read the labels, muttering under his breath as he went along. Nothing! He scrunched his face up in irritation and rested his head on the tabletop. Even if the antidote was in here, he didn’t have a clue what to look for. Teal’c was going to die and it would be entirely his fault.

"Daniel?" Jack shook his shoulder gently. "What?"

"Jack, I don’t know enough about what Hephaestus’ experiments to decipher if any of these are useful! God, we don’t have time to drag Teal’c out of here, what are we going to do?" Daniel sounded panicky even in his own head.

"We’ll think of something, Daniel. We always do," Jack said with resolve.

"I just don’t see how, Jack."

"Damnit, stop being Mr. Pessimism! It’s not helping."

His indignation at the nickname was lessened only by the fact that despite his concern, Jack wasn’t treating him as though he were helpless. It had been so long since his teammates had done anything but tiptoe around him…

"Well, pipe dreams don’t help either, Jack. There is no way I can figure out what to give Teal’c to help him because I don’t know which of these is Hephaestus’ weapon. Only he can help, and I doubt he’ll be very forthcoming in revealing that knowledge!"

Jack just stared at him, anger, fear and concern blazing in his eyes. Daniel stared back, breathing harshly. It was so hot in here. Wiping his brow with a shaky hand, he sighed with consternation and tried to get into the mind of Hephaestus as if that would help him determine where to find the possible cure. 

"Hephaestus…against System Lords…crazy…" Daniel mumbled, needing the verbalization to aid his thought process.

"Daniel, come on. We’re gonna go back and get Teal’c out of here while the Jaffa are otherwise occupied. Doc Fraiser will be able to come up with something."

"Nonono! I…Jack, what if Hephaestus would be willing to cure Teal’c if we agree to help him take down the System Lords?" Daniel spoke his half formed idea.

"What? No way! We’re not helping one Goa’uld, even if it means defeating the rest of them. It just doesn’t sit right. Besides, what makes you think this guy will buy into that if we knew where the hell he is? He probably took off already."

"He’s nuts, Jack. I got the distinct impression he’d do anything to get revenge on the System Lords for keeping him trapped here. We don’t actually have to follow through with our end of the deal, at least to the extent Hephaestus would want."

Jack’s face was quizzical and Daniel squirmed under the scrutiny. He shivered with chills, wrapping his arms around his chest. "And then what? He’s just going to let us leave? Daniel, I’m sorry but that has to be the iffiest plan I’ve ever heard."

"Well, do you have any brilliant insights, Jack?" Daniel’s frustration made apparent in his tone. They were wasting time.

"No, but that’s not my point. No Goa’uld is going to buy our offer of assistance, give us what we want and just happily let us go."

"How correct you are, Colonel O’Neill," a deep dual toned voice suddenly boomed through the room. "And now that I have all of SG1, think of the bargaining power I hold. I will use you to gain recognition and power, enhancing my station before I obliterate the System Lords."

Jumping, Daniel dumbly stared as Hephaestus stalked into the room, hand raised with ribbon device already glowing. He swayed and emitted a garbled gasp of stupid surprise. Beating rapidly, his heart threatened to burst right out of his chest.

"Yeah, you and whose army?" Jack snapped, recovering his tongue after a brief pause.

Daniel wanted to give a rousing ‘Yeah, so there!’ type comment, but all he could do was lean on the table and try to stem the tide of heat rising in his body. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of the fluctuations in temperature he was experiencing and knew he was getting sick. Infection from the gash in his leg, pneumonia from the cold dampness he’d been exposed to. Whatever. Didn’t matter. He braved a step away from the table.

"I do not require an army!"

Crazy bastard. Hephaestus’ words resounded fuzzily in his head and the world pitched. Earthquake? Sliding to the ground as legs gave way from beneath him, Daniel couldn’t even try to stop it from happening and knew impact would hurt.

"Shit! Daniel!" Jack called from far, far away.

He felt hands fumble at his arms and torso, trying to stop his fall but not succeeding. Letting out a small gasp, Daniel struggled to keep unconsciousness at bay. He did, if just barely but decided he was quite comfortable on the floor after all and stayed down with his eyes open a slit. He saw everything, saw Hephaestus use Jack’s distraction with him to his advantage, crossing the room to stand above their huddled forms. Jerking, Jack clamped both hands on Daniel as if to protect him. He wanted to tell his not to worry about him, to take the Goa’uld out. Finally moving away from him, he saw his friend pivot and bring his TER to the ready. Too late. The lame Goa’uld was too fast and raised his ribbon hand at Jack, blasting him back against the table brutally. Clattering noisily, both the TER and gun fell out of reach.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but watch as Hephaestus advanced closer to Jack and started pacing. Inspecting both of them, the Goa’uld looked as though he was sizing them up for something. Belatedly, he realized that now there were two options for a new host and he desperately wanted to move, damning his weakness. 

"Which…which shall I choose?"

Jack leapt to action, hand white knuckled around his knife. All of Hephaestus’ attention was on his friend and, though he was loath to abandon the other man, the opportunity was there. In his weakened state, there wasn’t much he could do but any amount of distraction would free his friend to fight. Daniel closed his eyes against the grunts and sounds of struggle as called enough strength to crawl quietly away. His hand brushed across the MP5 and he snatched it up, continuing on his way to hide behind a large metal cabinet. Jolting as a loud, angry scream filled the room, his throat seemed to close over with fear that his friend had just suffered a major wound.

Ducking his head around the edge of his hiding spot, dismayed to find Jack was nearly senseless with Hephaestus looming over him. A large wet splotch covered the Goa’uld’s left side, and he could see something jutting out in the center of it. Rare anxiety colored his friend’s face as he looked around for something to use against his attacker. There was nothing within reach, Daniel saw, and almost revealed himself. No, the two of them were too close together and he was anything but confident of his aim. Couldn’t take the risk of hitting Jack. 

"Do not worry, Tau’ri. I will not cause you permanent harm. What would your value be to me if you are dead?" Hephaestus calmly stated, raising his glowing hand to Jack’s forehead.

He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t just sit here and watch a friend get his brain melted, even if Hephaestus had no true intention of killing. Amazingly, Jack fought against the hand device’s hold, lurching sideways for one of the deadly-looking instruments along the wall. The space between his friend and his enemy greatened and Daniel took a deep breath, aiming the MP5 squarely at the Goa’uld’s back. Damnit, the weapon wasn’t designed for the accuracy he needed. The Goa’uld grinned broadly at Jack and waggled a finger back and forth as he nonchalantly, brutally kicked the fallen man.

"Oh, no you do not! You will behave while I retrieve the woman and the Jaffa. He should remain weakened for quite some time, but he will recover. I cannot hand over the infamous SG1 without the Shol’va and he cannot be unwell lest the System Lords determine my plan." Hephaestus removed a vial from inside his robes and placed it on the table. Daniel’s eyes locked on it, relief for Teal’c surging and he momentarily forgot their fates were still up in the air. "Yes, yes. I will take Daniel Jackson as I originally intended and tell the System Lords you put up a struggle and injured my current body beyond repair. I simply had no choice but to choose a new host. Yes." 

Well, that so wasn’t going to happen. Biting the inside of his cheek, Daniel watched Hephaestus grab Jack’s uncooperative arms with one hand and deliver a strong cuff to the side of his head with the other. His friend sagged limply as he was manhandled onto the table and strapped down. He mentally told Jack to hold on, eyes still riveted on the vial of antidote. 

A garbled scream of rage told him his escape had been noticed. Unable to prevent a smug little smile from appearing on his face, Daniel looked over to the Goa’uld and was dismayed to see him bearing back down on Jack. He let Hephaestus get four steps before he stumbled out into the open. He didn’t think, he just ran forward and pulled the trigger. Satisfaction surged as he saw the Goa’uld jerk at the impact of the bullets and fall face down. The body twitched several times and then ceased all movement.

"Daniel!" Jack shouted. "I could kiss you!"

He dropped the weapon, numbness setting over him as the adrenaline made a hasty exit. He limped slowly around the corpse, to Jack to undo the restraints. Jack’s hand was fisted around something…the bottle? Daniel’s spirit soared and adrenaline once again pumped through his veins. The antidote. It had to be.

"Jack!" Daniel sighed with relief. "I’d rather you didn’t."

Madly grinning at him, Jack held that expression for about half a second before he frowned and said, "Daniel, hurry up, will ya? We’ve gotta get to Teal’c."

Daniel increased his pace, wanting to away from the gory sight on the floor. An uncompromising grip on his right ankle stopped him in his tracks. He looked down to see the Goa’uld, still alive, hand fisted around his leg with unbelievable strength. Hephaestus jerked the ribbon device up at Daniel, the weapon already glowing.

Time slowed and Daniel whipped his head back to Jack, eyes wide. His friend couldn’t see, he realized, his head lifted off the platform and twisted at an awkward angle. Opening his mouth to say something, anything, nothing came out. Pain ripped through him as Hephaestus activated the ribbon on his leg. He groaned, convulsed slightly and fell to the floor with the Goa’uld still latched firmly onto him. Strangely paralyzed, he could still feel something heavy crawling up his immobile body. Gasping in unabashed fear at what greeted him, he tried to writhe away. Couldn’t. 

"Now you will be mine," Hephaestus croaked, blood gushing from his mouth.

Daniel stared in grotesque horror as Hephaestus’ throat bulged and the Goa’uld symbiote emerged from the host body’s open mouth. Tightly closing his eyes as if that would prevent the possession, he groaned. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.

Oh…God.

~~~~~~~~

His life had become a series of discombobulated awakenings, which he found to be at once disturbing and comforting. He yet lived, and though he had no wish to die was prepared for that outcome. As before, Teal’c had a difficult time remembering the events leading up to his state of unconsciousness. He did not attempt to piece his memory together, merely took solace in the warm embrace he found himself it and the fact that Daniel Jackson was still with him. He moved his head slightly, the motion causing his head to throb and he could not stop the low moan from escaping his lips. The warmth behind him shifted slightly and he opened his eyes to see a worried face studying him intently. It was not Daniel, but Major Carter who tenuously smiled at him. 

"Hey, Teal’c! Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

Understanding the question was a rhetorical one by the haunted expression tainting her features and soft sadness of her voice, Teal’c deliberated between providing transparent, misleading reassurance or admission. After several moments, he chose to comment wryly, "I have been better, Major Carter."

"Yeah," Major Carter agreed, blinking several times. "You have. And you will be again soon."

Teal’c almost chuckled at her forced confidence. In his four years with the Tau’ri, one particular characteristic never ceased to amaze him – their lack of fear for their own deaths, coupled with the intense drive to prevent others from succumbing to it. Whether because of selfish motivations, a desire to prevent pain for themselves as a result of loss, or sheer stubbornness, it did not matter. He did not know, however, if he thought the trait more foolish or admirable. His Jaffa training had taught him early on to never give up, to fight until death for Apophis; it was a learned rather than inherent attribute for the Jaffa, applied to false beliefs. Death while protecting Apophis was an honor. Death was not to be feared. Loss was part of life, death a strange celebration of the false god’s might.

"We need you with us, Teal’c. I don’t know if I could forgive you if you left now."

Forgiveness. The word caught in his brain and spun there over and over. Shaking, he twisted in her grasp, the action causing an intense round of coughing and wheezing. It felt as though he were about to fly apart, scatter in every direction. So close, too close, was death, and yet he remained, lingered on in suffering. Hephaestus’ weapon was not only powerful, it was cruel.

"And what about Colonel O’Neill and Daniel?" Major Carter choked out. "Teal’c, we can’t…"

Trailing off, Major Carter bent closer to him and burrowed her face into his sweaty neck in a rare demonstration of the emotion he had always known existed within her. It distressed him greatly that he was unable to comply with her request, because she was really bestowing him an honor he did not deserve – friendship so deep his death would almost physically hurt her. 

"They’ll both be right back, with the cure for whatever Hephaestus has done to you. Hang on, please."

Both she and Daniel Jackson repeatedly asked him to remain with them…both told him without words that his death would bring them much grief. Teal’c shifted as Major Carter pulled back slightly, capturing her large eyed gaze with his own. He was scoured with the sorrow emanating from them and from his own deep regret. Behind the sorrow, though, he saw love, platonic admiration and esteem. Smiling, he felt the warmth provided by her body now flowing through him like a great river. He had never been one hundred percent comfortable among his human companions, feeling somewhat displaced. In time, he came to think of them as friends, a sentiment they returned. But it was only now that he understood they really did consider him such. Deeply. And as much as he did not want to lose that companionship and cause them pain, it was with great joy he could leave this world with that knowledge.

_  
_

"Just don’t go anywhere, because I have something I need to tell you. I refuse to do it right now, so you’re just going to have to stick it out until we get back home."

Daniel’s plea was a ghost, haunting him in this last hour of life. Profoundly hoping he already knew what the other man had wished to impart to him, Teal’c closed his eyes and attempted to halt the words’ repetition. He was so weary. So weary. But he could not give in, he must continue to fight as his friends appealed. Death in such a manner as this was not noble; he did not want Hephaestus to be victorious over him…and, in turn, his friends. 

"I will do my best," he rasped, doubt festering. 

His best had to be sufficient, at the very least, for him to remain alive long enough to see Daniel and O’Neill one more time as he so wanted. Fearfully maudlin in his own mind, Teal’c shivered and wheezed, his body not taking in nearly enough oxygen. Instinctively, stupidly, he once again attempted to achieve Kel No’reem and put his physical being right. He was unsuccessful, struck by a resurgence of how base and feeble he felt without the benefit of his loathsome larval Goa’uld. Without its benefits it seemed he was as much a slave to it as ever.

"You’d better, mister," Major Carter mock-cheerfully chided. "It won’t be long now, I’m certain. They’ve already been gone quite a while. If they were…if they were going to find something to help you, they would have found it by now."

The news that his remaining teammates had been gone for an extensive period set him instantly at unease and reintroduced a vision of Daniel to him. In retrospect, his hazy eyesight and cloudy mental state cleared to reveal how truly poor his young friend’s countenance had been. Worry spiked at the possibility something had happened to Daniel while searching for an aid for _his_ condition.

"I fear Daniel Jackson…is ill."

"Yeah, I know, Teal’c, but Daniel is the only one besides you who can decipher Goa’uld writing."

Saving his life did not merit risk to others, a belief of which he could not rid himself; he did not want harm to come to anyone just so that he might survive. With a start, he realized his mindset regarding death was strikingly alike to that of his human friends, their influence of him making itself known to him where he should have already reached that conclusion. Being with the Tau’ri had changed him for the better. 

"The colonel will keep an eye on him."

Of that he had no doubt. Nodding, Teal’c’s eyes closed of their own volition. Major Carter fidgeted beneath him, her arms wrapping tighter around his torso. He could still feel the tension vibrating through her, knew she was not as nonchalant about her concern for Daniel and O’Neill as her words indicated. Appreciating the comfort she offered, he could not help but think it would be better for her to go in search of the two men. He tried to move or speak, could not as he felt himself slipping further into relentless darkness. 

Time slowed and all he knew was the soft, cool exhalation of breath on his cheek and the steadily rapid heartbeat thrumming into his back. He felt as though he were floating, drifting away into nothingness and knew he should be fighting more strenuously. Low buzzing filled his ears, lulling him deeper and deeper. Would it really be detrimental for him to conserve his energy by yielding to his exhaustion? Convinced by his vague logic, Teal’c relaxed his body. His shivering slowed and he found a rhythm in which breathing was not so laborious.

Contrasting his relaxation, Major Carter stiffened behind him and the gusts of air increased exponentially, chilling him. He heard her speaking to him but nothing she said registered in his ears as his muscles slipped into total slackness. Nothing short of a natural disaster would be strong enough to bring him around now.

Nothing except the jarring, sudden and entirely recognizable sound of weapons-fire, coming from precisely the location O’Neill and Daniel Jackson had gone. Hephaestus’ laboratory. Behind him, Major Carter flinched so excessively she nearly lost her grip, then froze and kept herself as still as a rabbit hiding in the bushes from an owl. After the short burst of sound, silence fell around them so thickly he feared it would provide enough density in the air to cause asphyxiation. Uncertainty was the second killer to impose itself, seeds of fear feeding off the silence and growing swiftly.

"Major Carter, you must go." His throat scraped dryly, sending him into another round of coughs, through which he felt his companion shift. She moved reluctantly, her hands hovering above his person in hesitation. "I will remain as long as I am able, Major Carter. If I do not survive, please tell Daniel Jackson I am sorry I could not wait for him. He will understand what I mean."

Breathless after his speech, Teal’c panted softly while Major Carter continued to cautiously wriggle from beneath him. She nodded once, clasping his shoulders once before stripping off her jacket and tucking it closely around him. Worriedly, she chewed her lip and then leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. Tears erupted in his eyes, abnormally unchecked. 

"I’ll be right back. Don’t –"

"Go," he interrupted, unwilling to hear her reiterate the directive that was beyond his control. Yet he would stay. He would fight. "Go."

She nodded again and left him. Climbing up the wall with more swiftness and skill than Daniel had, Teal’c saw her journey halfway up before his vision depleted. Rest. He was so tired. A tremulous pronunciation of his name resounded, barely audible and so loud. He could give no more assurances.

With regret in his heart and mind, he gave in to his body’s need for rest, his last thought an apology.

~~~~~~~~

The aftermath of an adrenaline rush was always a limp, gelatinous feeling all over his body. Now was no different; Jack sagged into the hard wood beneath his back and felt like a puddle. He vaguely recalled shouting something of his amazed gratitude toward Daniel for saving his life but, overall, his world was a collection of relieved pulses. One thing he felt with absoluteness was the small vial clasped tightly in his hand, the amber bottle warming with his touch. Teal’c’s salvation. He was never so grateful for the ease with which they’d dispensed of another Goa’uld, wondered if they might be able to utilize some of the technology found here.

Watching Daniel slowly hobble toward him with a grimace he supposed was meant to be a smile, Jack smiled back. The younger man had done very well, better than he would have thought possible. As much as he wanted to be one hundred percent enthused by that, he couldn’t help but be touched by sadness. Gone was the enthusiastic explorer and his frustratingly humanitarian ways. This was their first real mission since Sha’uri’s death, there hadn’t been any reason for him to notice a difference and yet he could sense it. It was as if the archaeologist no longer felt he had a purpose, and Jack understood that feeling all too well. His smile faltered.

So did Daniel’s footsteps, and the other man’s half smile turned into an open-mouthed gape. Jack recognized it – it was the same expression he’d induced in so many during his Black Ops days. The look of a man a fraction of a second before his life came to an end. No fear, just unadulterated surprise. Heart lurching, he vainly tried to sit up, get off the table to learn what had sparked such a thing in his friend, and groaned in frustration when his bonds would not release. All he could do was stare at the other man, watch him fall from sight and notice much more than simple shock in those blue eyes. Daniel was terrified. _He_ was terrified as his friend garbled a pained cry.

"Daniel!" he shouted, voice cracking. There was no answer but he called again. "Daniel, answer me?"

The unknown was as potent as anything he had ever faced, and he surged against his restraints with power granted by another upswing of adrenaline. Writhing, twisting, pulling, he fought to break himself free, spurred by the telltale sound of a hand device. Oh, God. Hephaestus was alive? That shouldn’t be possible. It was. Less than twenty feet away, his friend was suffering terrible pain, was being overtaken by a monster. Fear spasmed through him, controlled his muscles to seize with grand mal force. Not even than prevailed over his tight bonds and he was forced to listen to soft whimpers of distress, gurgled chokes of hurt. 

He mightily heaved, felt the leather break skin and blood trickle sluggishly from his wrists. The mechanical whine of the ribbon device abruptly cut off, as did Daniel’s cries. Closing his eyes, Jack sagged in disbelief. It couldn’t have gone down like this, this was a mistake. Daniel hadn’t just…oh, shit. Shit, shit! He was impotent, useless. He could do nothing to prevent this, only call out his friend’s name in the hope some solace was gained by the younger man. 

"God, Daniel, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

For letting it happen, for what he would have to do to stop the Goa’uld within his friend’s body. No, not him. Hephaestus would delight in subjugating him with Daniel’s face. It was up to the others. If they couldn’t somehow extract the symbiote, death was the only option, and it was what the other man would want. God, where the hell was Makepeace? The marine had to have taken care of things on the surface by now. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. Straining his ears, Jack listened for something, anything, that would tell him it wasn’t too late for Daniel. He couldn’t be sure if he really heard a muffled ‘no’ or if his imagination was working against him.

"No…no!"

That was clear as a bell and had him fighting with renewed vigor. Bucking, Jack arched his back as if that would assure his victory and release. He charged up when a heavy pressure landed on his left arm. He didn’t want to stop his attempts in locating Daniel and Hephaestus. Not Hephaestus already in Daniel. Prepared to spit in the face of a Jaffa, he reeled back when Colonel Makepeace’s face filled his line of sight.

"Don’t worry, I’ll have you out of here in a couple of minutes, O’Neill."

Jack peered over the marine’s shoulder at the doorway, then turned back toward Daniel. Growling, he tensed his arm and hissed, "Don’t worry about me…Daniel! Get Daniel. Over there, now."

Jutting his jaw out as a pointer, he groaned when Makepeace didn’t move. A faint exclamation from across the room called his attention before he could unleash his aggravation on the marine. Carter stood in the door, pale and rumpled. She had to know Daniel was here…had to know…

"Get to Daniel, Carter! You have to hurry."

She flinched and paled further, but moved immediately. Moved where he wanted to go himself, where the noises of struggle had once again halted into ominous silence. Carter disappeared behind the adjacent table, her gasp resounding loudly. It was followed by a dull thump and a moan. Sickened, Jack stiffened and mentally cursed Makepeace’s slow fingers.

"Damnit, hurry up, Makepeace!" he hissed as the marine finally got his left hand free. Shakily, he fumbled to loosen his right while the other colonel targeted his ankles. "Carter? What’s happening? Daniel!"

His words weren’t answered, nor had he really expected them to be. He heard fear in them, though, saw a flicker of something bordering on contempt sweep Makepeace’s face. He didn’t care if his concern was viewed as weakness. Working with SG1 had taught him to value team members as friends as well as comrades-in-arms, and that was something that could never be used against him. Never.

"Carter!"

The only reply he got was another moan, then thick silence once again, its effectiveness never lost. Breathing heavily, Jack tore at the strap on his wrist and snapped himself free the same instant Makepeace released his ankles. Swinging his legs off the table, his feet hit the ground and he was moving. Two steps were all he managed before a loud, anguished cry haunted the room. Daniel? No. Nono. It _was_ not Daniel. Carter had stopped it.

Hesitating only a second, Jack flew around the table, still horribly afraid of what he’d find. Makepeace wasn’t far behind, nearly running into him when he stopped short. Blinking at the grisly scene, he saw Carter kneeling above Daniel and Hephaestus. There was so much blood. Had to be the Goa’uld’s, from the knife wound and the bullets. Had to. Nauseated by the position the monster was in – sprawled on top of his unconscious friend, mouth open in a soundless scream. He stared in horror as something moved within the yawning cavity and realized it wasn’t a scream. Shouting out, he saw the head of the Goa’uld symbiote, still alive and seeking, poke from the host’s body.

It flew toward Daniel with ease, locking on the base of the younger man’s throat with ferocity. Still clutching the knife she’d apparently used to finish off the host, Carter launched herself at the snake, grappled with the unmoving shell to get to the true beast. He was thankful Daniel wasn’t awake to experience this; his own nightmares were going to be trouble enough. A millisecond seemed a lifetime and, numbly, he watched sharp prongs penetrate skin before he could move. No! While his 2IC kept tugging on the dead body, he shot forward and wrapped his fingers around the symbiote, preventing it from burrowing any deeper. Not today. Not ever.

Squeezing with every ounce of strength left in his body, Jack scowled with disgust at the feel of the symbiote’s innards – whatever that entailed – shift and compress under his fingers until there was no fight left in the thing. It flopped one last time, tail falling from the corpse as Carter, with Makepeace’s help, finally succeeded in wrestling it off Daniel. Releasing the snake, he shakily set about prying it way from his friend, all the while eyeing the blood. Despite being out of it, Daniel shivered and he kicked himself for not providing his clearly ill team member his jacket. Tearing it off, he mutely studied Carter’s fingers as they ran along the younger man’s chest and abdomen in search of additional wounds. She shook her head at him, relief coloring her eyes deep midnight blue. He flung the lifeless Goa’uld across the room.

Patting Daniel on the face was a regretful but necessary task, and it was his next move. "Come on, Daniel. Time to wake up."

They had to get to Teal’c with the…where was the vial? Shit, he must have dropped it. He did a visual check of the area, continuing attempts to wake Daniel, who was already showing signs. That was a good thing; he had probably just passed out. Fear could do that to a person, and he really couldn’t think of many things worse than watching a Goa’uld getting ready to invade your body. He shuddered with vibrant, real empathy and clenched his jaw when he couldn’t locate the bottle. 

"Makepeace, I had a little jar in my hand before…that’s what we need for Teal’c. Did you see it?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? Well, go find it!" Jack snapped when the other colonel didn’t immediately move. He softened his voice as he felt Daniel stir. "Hey, that’s it, Daniel. Open your eyes."

Carter moved to the other side of the prone man, carefully spreading his jacked like a blanket. Looking over his shoulder, she perused the room for something, taking off when she’d apparently found it and returning with some filmy white material. She pressed it against Daniel’s throat wound, which still seeped blood. Jerking when Daniel arched slightly, she switched positions, lifting his jacket to swipe at the stickiness covering the archaeologist’s chest.

"Sir, he’s feverish. I think his leg might be at the beginnings of an infection."

"All the more reason to get out of here, Carter."

"Yes, sir."

"I’ve got it!" Makepeace bellowed, rejoining them with the antidote.

He knew he should leave Daniel to go collect Teal’c but something told him that wouldn’t be a good idea. It was an unclear, strong instinct and he laid a cool palm on his friend’s sweaty brow in hesitation. Daniel shivered, though fire burned in his body. Jack stared at Makepeace’s clasped hand for a moment, then turned back to the archaeologist, to bleary blue eyes gazing at him.

"Jack? What…happened?" Daniel weakly asked, confusion and fever clouding his expression.

"I’ll give you the full report later, Daniel. For now, I’ll just say you had a close encounter of the Goa’uld kind," he softly said, pointing to where Carter was covering the ugly evidence.

"Oh, God!" Daniel stiffened beneath his touch, spasming. Breaking free before Carter finished securing the bandage, the younger man rolled onto his side and gagged. Dry heaved, as there was nothing in his stomach. Carter helplessly gazed over to him when Daniel moaned again, "Oh, God."

"Hey, hey, it’s okay now," Jack stupidly assured, rubbing small circles on his friend’s convulsing back. It seemed forever before Daniel started to settle, weaken to tiny shudders of reaction. "It’s okay."

Rustling, Daniel returned to his back and blinked a couple of times, then nodded and gasped in a shaky breath. Jack frowned, uncertainty reappearing in regards to moving the younger man quite yet. Carter quickly slapped the gauze back over the four slash marks, but looked baffled when she couldn’t find anything to secure it with. He looked around the room for something to help when he suddenly realized Makepeace was all alone.

"Makepeace, where is the rest of your team? We could use their help."

"Fitzgerald took a hit, as did Wolfe but they’re both mobile. I sent them back to the Stargate to apprise the SGC of the situation with the assumption at least one of your men was also down."

Great, more injured to worry about. First things first, though, and maybe this antidote was fast acting enough to rule Teal’c out as a casualty. If his Jaffa friend was even still alive. Shaking his head, Jack tried to dislodge that idea.

"All right. Carter, stick with Daniel while Makepeace and I go figure out how to lift Teal’c out of there," Jack directed, making the strategically correct call. Or at least the most effiecient.

"No, Jack," Daniel protested, lifting his neck and shoulders off the ground. "I want to be there with Teal’c. I _need_ to be there."

Well, how was he supposed to argue with that, when it was spoken with such intensity? The lack of that particular facet of Daniel had been pervasive, and he was oddly pleased that it was Teal’c for whom it had returned. Jack felt a bare smile form on his face as he nodded at the archaeologist. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Makepeace roll his eyes, which made the decision all the easier.

"Okay." With his agreement came an overt lessening of the tension in Daniel’s features, a deep scowl from Makepeace and a quick smile from his 2IC. "Makepeace, you take his left, I’ll get the right. And, Carter, it would actually be better if you figure out how this stuff works and get back to Teal’c ASAP. We’ll be right behind you."

"Yes, sir," she said, took the vial from Makepeace’s outstretched hand and left. 

"Teal’c," Daniel whispered.

"Yeah, let’s go get him."

Jack tried to ignore the residual shakiness and heat from the younger man, intent upon finding Teal’c alive if not well. Glancing over at Daniel’s determined countenance, he felt that more than just Teal’c’s life hung in the balance but that, for the first time in a while, SG1 was alive and getting slowly better.

~~~~~~~~

Too damn close. 

Sam was still shaky from witnessing Daniel’s near implantation, an event that had come far too soon after watching her CO actually _be_ implanted. She’d only just glimpsed the utterly petrified expression on Daniel’s face before he’d gone limp but it was enough to be permanently imprinted in her brain. Lately, she thought, there had been too many instances for her to view her teammates as fallible. Not that she believed them to be anything but, and she realized that wasn’t the best way to look at it. No, it was more that they had each exhibited signs of uncharacteristic fragility – the colonel’s obvious fright in Hathor’s grips, Daniel’s withdrawal of body and spirit since Shau’ri’s death, Teal’c’s silence, a different silence from which she was used.

All of these things had shaken her more than she had been willing to admit and, in the wake of the tableau and dénouement of one worrying event regarding one of her teammates, she found she could hardly navigate back toward the sinkhole where she’d left Teal’c. Oh, Teal’c. Instead of sending endorphins to her wobbly muscles, the thought of her friend made her even weaker. Her shoulder jarred against the roughly hewn doorway into the tunnel that would lead her back to the ill man. Hissing with discomfort, Sam rubbed her offended limb with the bottle of antidote, then pulled her hand back and stared at it. 

She had no idea how to administer this stuff, and the only one who knew was dead. 

Frozen with consternation, she twisted the lid of the small jar open to see if there was a dropper or something to indicate it was to be taken internally. That seemed the easiest way to go about doing it, but she had nothing to go on. Only common sense, and with the Goa’uld that wasn’t something that typically worked. Teal’c had theorized that he’d been given an injection and only then had he shown signs of weakening. Did that mean the cure would be the same? What if she chose to give the antidote orally when it was meant to be taken intravenously and she did more harm than good? 

There was no way she could take that chance; Colonel O’Neill would understand that but they definitely didn’t have the luxury of indecision. Taking a deep breath, she continued on down the darkened tunnel and simply hoped there was still reason to debate the issue with her CO. That Teal’c was still alive. God, it couldn’t end like this. She didn’t want to even think about losing any of her teammates but she knew that, with their vocations, the odds were stacked against them. Oddly, though, she didn’t find the idea of losing them in battle nearly as repugnant as watching them weaken and slip away, to become husks of themselves. Wasted. Ill. In terrible agony for many, many hours.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit, shit, shit.

Spiraling downward into the idea of her worst nightmare, Sam’s heart was hollow with sickness. She had had to see her father in such a state, which she was still trying to come to terms with though he’d been saved by Selmac. It would be no different with Teal’c, she resolved to herself. This was just another horrible experience that he _would_ survive. Coping with that was infinitely better than the alternative.

She heard faint scrabbling sounds from behind her and guessed it was the colonels and Daniel. Picking up her pace, she rounded the slight bend and focused on the hole in the ground. She had to ignore the reference of a grave her mind automatically supplied for her viewing displeasure, complete with an ‘RIP, Teal’c’ macabre, surreal headstone. God, she was ill. Out of her mind. Shaking her head, Sam cautiously peered down at her friend.

He hadn’t moved an inch from the last time she had seen him but, despite the dim lighting, she swore Teal’c’s skin was grayer in tone than it had been before. And she wasn’t entirely certain he was still breathing. Acid rose up into her throat from her rebelling stomach, burning and choking. Swallowing harshly, Sam straightened her shoulders and pocketed the vial for safekeeping during her difficult descent. Maybe she wasn’t sure whether not to give Teal’c the stuff but she was sure she needed to be down there with him and to offer him what little comfort she could. She needed to keep him alive, because she didn’t want to impart that message he had asked her to. It would kill Daniel to hear it from her. 

The trip down was arduous, and though there was chill in the air, she broke into a sweat. By the time she reached the bottom, she was a little breathless. She turned around, looked at Teal’c from much closer up and forgot her own minor discomforts. At his side without thinking, Sam knelt for a moment and had no clue what to do. She reached out a hand, held it above her big friend’s nose and mouth. Leaning over the sprawled figure, she laid her cheek on his chest with relief. Alive, alive. Frowning, she stared at a sleeve that seemed unduly snug from her vantage point and lifted her head. She snickered one minute when she realized Daniel must have given the other man his T-shirt, then sobered when she recalled how ill the archaeologist had looked. 

"Teal’c," Sam whispered, with no real hope that the unconscious man would respond. Softly touching his forehead, she repeated, "Teal’c."

He stirred, leaning into her slight embrace and she nearly lost it. Hope merged with happiness to create a rejuvenating effect. Studying Teal’c’s face for any additional signs of life, Sam furrowed her eyebrows as if frowning would make it happen. Nothing. Her uplift in spirits dampened slightly, but she swiftly told herself it was good enough that her friend wasn’t completely unresponsive. Fumbling for the vial, she dug it out and toyed with it again. She almost tore the cap off and tipped it to Teal’c’s lips but withheld the impulse. Janet would know what to do. God, why was she being such a child? Uncapping it, she brought her hand up to the parted lips and tilted the bottle.

"Carter, stop!"

Startled, Sam flinched and some of the antidote spilled on Teal’c’s chin. She hastily wiped it up, frightened by Colonel O’Neill’s insistent intrusion. Looking up, she saw his nose, eyes and forehead for a second, then watched him bob backward as if he was being tugged. She understood moments later when his face reappeared with a companion – Daniel, looking waxy, thin and worried. Instinctively, she planted a reassuring smile on her face but it went unnoticed, his eyes riveted on Teal’c alone. She switched her gaze to the colonel, who also wasn’t giving her consideration.

"Is he…" Daniel rasped, stopping to swallow heavily. Is he…oh, God. She remembered how she had feared Teal’c was already dead, and Daniel hadn’t seen her about to give the antidote. Colonel O’Neill shifted and the archaeologist disappeared from view, not before she heard a muffled, "Oh."

"He’s alive, sir," she called up, speaking to her CO rather than Daniel; pretending not to notice the heady emotion exuding from the archaeologist in nearly tangible waves. She didn’t know why she did so, because she should be glad to see such a thing from him. Only, all it was…was painful. "He’s still with us."

"That’s great news, Major. Put a cap on the antidote for now, though. Daniel fount fault with my logic – big surprise there – and we poked around Hephaestus’ shop for more information. Documentation, if you will. He says there’s clear indication the stuff is supposed to be injected, not swallowed."

So she had been right to hesitate. Thank goodness she had, otherwise Teal’c might be…no, she wasn’t going to think about that because it _didn’t_ happen. Glancing down at her friend’s devastated form, she knew there was no way they’d make it back to the SGC with him. 

"What do we do now, sir?" 

"I’ve got Makepeace searching the room for some type of hypodermic. If the Goa’uld had sense enough to make the antidote, all we can bank on him having enough to also have the tools necessary for its use. At least that’s what Daniel says."

She had to smile at the colonel’s last message; the way he was speaking did sound like Daniel. And she was amazed that the archaeologist was with it enough to relay that detailed a message, a fact she was not going to take for granted. Maybe that meant he wasn’t as bad as she feared.

"In the mean time, grab the end of the rope and see if you can make some kind of harness out of it. Makepeace and I will haul Teal’c up."

"But, sir, won’t that…"

"Ah! I don’t think a few bumps and bruises will really make much of a difference at this point. Regardless, if you climb up after him, you can keep an eye on the progress and help prevent the worst bangs."

"Yes, sir," she agreed, relieved she wouldn’t have to watch Teal’c colliding with the wall over and over again. Not that the colonels wouldn’t be careful. Sam stared at the spot next to her CO’s face, which was alarmingly empty. "Sir, how’s Daniel?"

Colonel O’Neill’s face ducked away again and came back with a slight smirk. " _Daniel_ says to say he heard that and he’s _fine_. Between me and you, though, I think he’s exaggerating."

"Sir?"

Her request for clarification was met with a look she didn’t know how to categorize. It was either the ‘don’t ask because Daniel’s really sick and I don’t want to give vocal credence to it’ look or the ‘don’t ask because asking won’t do anyone any good’ look, and both of those options were ones she really didn’t want to hear anyway. Unfortunately, not saying anything really didn’t reduce the worry. At all. 

To deal with the disquieting imaginings her mind conjured up regarding Daniel, she turned to an equally worrying Teal’c. Here, though, imagination wasn’t needed. She wanted her big friend to open his eyes and tell her he was going to be all right, and she wanted it now. Huffing, Sam ruffled a hand through her hair and pondered stomping her foot down a couple of times, fitting for the childish thoughts she was having. 

Rather than unproductively wallowing in fear, she set to work getting Teal’c ready for transport. She didn’t have much to work with, the rope barely reaching her unconscious friend; there was no way she’d be able to move the big man, not at a dead weight. Tugging at the rope to make sure the colonel had a good grip on it, Sam pulled it over to the Jaffa and wriggled it under his shoulders. A basic under the arms hold was probably the easiest way to go about it and should only cause minor bruising. Securing the makeshift harness, she sat back to check her handiwork and her watch. How long could it possibly take to find a needle?

"I’m all set down here, sir!" Sam shouted up, shifting her gaze to find a blank hole. Her stomach flopped and swished. 

Within a second, Colonel O’Neill reappeared, looking beyond her to Teal’c. He looked tired. "Good. Is there any way you can shift him around so his neck and shoulders are closer to the opening? It’s going to be tou – "

His words were drowned out by two things – Makepeace suddenly appearing and bellowing about touching something and an even louder, hollowly mechanical voice resonating in the air. Sam didn’t understand the recording’s words but she didn’t have to; she flashed back to Aris Boch and recognized it instantly as some kind of countdown.

Why couldn’t the damned Goa’uld just be dead and stay that way?

~~~~~~~~

"I don’t know what I touched but it wasn’t good!" 

Starting from the half-sleep he had slipped into, Daniel peeled his eyes open in time to see Colonel Makepeace barrel around the corner at full speed. He bewilderedly tried to raise his head and shoulders from the ground, not really remembering how he’d gotten into a prone position in the first place. Foggily, he saw Jack out of the corner of his eye and, not so foggily, felt his friend press on him to keep him still. He didn’t receive any words of recrimination, Jack’s attention not entirely on him.

"Goddamnit, Makepeace, what did you do?"

"I don’t know…"

He lost the thread of the English spoken words as a booming voice started angrily up, in Goa’uld. Something…insolence not going unpunished…something…his hearing kept going out on him. Lifting his head again only to be thwarted by Jack’s strong hand slapping on his forehead. Daniel growled at the treatment, fidgeting around to try to free himself. 

"Just…please, Daniel," Jack softly said to him, then hollered, "Did you at least get a goddamn syringe?"

Numbers. Getting smaller.

"Yeah, I got it."

Uncoordinatedly moving his arm, he caught his fingertips on Jack’s belt loop. This was all much too difficult and he couldn’t figure out how he’d gone from feeling just fine to being nearly incapacitated. It was as if his body had hit an invisible wall, really hard, and just couldn’t go anymore but he knew that wasn’t an option. He _had_ to keep going, for Teal’c. For time lost. Oh, Teal’c. 

"Daniel, look at me."

He looked at Jack.

"Good. What is that rat bastard gloating about?"

"It’s a countdown," Daniel raggedly said, blinking in surprise at his hoarseness.

"I got that. How long do we have?" He blinked but his eyes wouldn’t reopen. The world shook. Earthquake, explosion? Fearfully, Daniel was fueled with enough energy to crack them open and he stared into Jack’s tense face. "Daniel, I know you’re tired, but please."

"What…was the question?" 

"We need to know how long we have. How long _Teal’c_ has." Teal’c…trust Jack to know precisely how to play him. Concentrating, Daniel listened to the numbers more closely. "Daniel."

"Five minutes."

"Five minutes? Geez, this guy was an idiot."

Overzealous, maybe. 

"You’d rather have five seconds, O’Neill?"

Good point.

"Good point. Come on, Makepeace, let’s do this."

Drifting, Daniel stared at the low stone ceiling and tried not to surrender to weariness. He focused on the muffled conversation and gasps of exertion coming from the dual colonels until the sounds became almost a musical score. Background music that seemed far too dull for the circumstances, too lulling for him to count on keeping him awake. A direct, odd counterpoint to the thrum of human voices blared into his senses, the heavy ringing of the deep voice counting down the minutes to apparent destruction worked much more effectively, and he honed in on it. 

Which turned out to be not quite so effective after all. 

"Damnit, watch his head! Carter, you okay?"

"Yes, sir. Keep pulling, we’re almost there. How much longer do we have?"

Him, that was up to him to disclose, Daniel realized. Sluggishly, he opened eyes he hadn’t meant to close but couldn’t keep them that way, nor could he answer Sam’s question. On some level he knew that wasn’t a good sign but knowledge didn’t make it any easier to pull himself out of his daze. He trembled with minute shivers.

"Daniel!" Jack sharply shouted and he consequentially started, opened his eyes again. Kept them open. "I need you to stay with us for just a little while longer. What’s the time on the countdown?"

The cautious tone Jack and the rest of his friends had been using around him was back but it was worse now, with a hint of deliberation as if he were a child and couldn’t understand unless every syllable was unerringly enunciated. It pissed him off incredibly, his irritation reviving him better than a dousing of cold water to his face. Hurriedly sitting up, Daniel regretted the impulsive action instantly when the tunnel did a wavering loop and his stomach followed suit. He sucked in a breath and chose a spot to act as a grounding point, looking down at his legs. Unfortunately, his gaze landed on his injured leg, the gauze poking through his pants. He frowned at it, wondering how it had gotten bandaged and why the skin surrounding the cloth was so red; hadn’t Hephaestus healed it?

"Daniel, the time!"

Jack again. Blinking, he risked glancing up, pleased when the world remained somewhat steady. His friend wasn’t looking his way, entirely absorbed in the task of raising Teal’c up through the hole in the ground. He saw the chocolate skin of Teal’c’s head through the bedlam of Jack and Makepeace’s arms and legs. Booming into his head, the Goa’uld words solidified into the information he needed to share. 

"Two minutes…thirty seconds," he gasped, falling back against the damp wall.

"Shit."

Dragging Teal’c the rest of the way up and over the lip of the hole, Jack and Makepeace didn’t bother untying the rope that was cinched around the unconscious man’s chest, merely stumbled to their feet with him in tow. Sam was seconds behind, clambering out and crawling directly toward him. And then suddenly Daniel was standing, with one of his arms wrapped around her shoulder and the other snagged on her belt. There was no time for confusion, only running… lurching, stumbling…through the corridors with swiftness that should not have been possible. He wasn’t even sure if his feet were hitting the ground, astonishing strength pouring from Sam. He blinked, opened his eyes to discover they were near the entrance, brighter light filtering into the exit tunnel and illuminating the way. 

So close, so close. The countdown threateningly toned forty-five seconds, and Daniel was abruptly struck by the oddness of the Goa’uld breaking down exactly how long they had to live. Surprise would be a much better plan, if common sense had anything to do with it. Snickering softly, he realized he’d answered his own pondering question. Not that it mattered, not when they had forty seconds to vacate the premises. Sam shot him a curious stare, her forehead creasing. She was sweating profusely. 

"Forty," he mouthed, and the lines on her brow deepened. 

Daniel saw her mouth moving but didn’t hear a thing she said, though he could make a fair guess she was transmitting what he had just told her, as the ramshackle group ahead of them started moving even faster. Striving to help Sam, he concentrated on coordinating his strides with hers but ended up tripping. Her grasp around his waist cinched, compressing his abdomen and chest with painful force. Wheezing and hunching over slightly, he dryly coughed and she loosened up. Grayness tinged, and it had nothing to do with the time of day or how poorly lit their trek was. Fighting back an all out panic, he tried to slow his breathing and get necessary oxygen into his lungs.

Though his feet still weren’t really making contact with the ground, he felt a faint stirring. Sam’s muscles strained, her shoulders tensed as they made the final push through a crumbling temple he briefly wished he had had time to explore. The thought vanished as the stirring upped to shaking, accompanied by a low rumble that spirited up the memory of a mastadge stampede he’d witnessed on Abydos. It was a warning noise, more compelling than the countdown had been.

Half slipping down a set of wide, shallow stairs, he and Sam became tangled together and they fell just as a great puff of dust and debris shot from the double, open doorway behind them. Daniel gasped as several large chunks gouged his legs and shoulders, heard his travel companion do the same. He lost sight of Jack, Makepeace and Teal’c in the cloud, scrambling around to watch the temple collapse in on itself. One final shudder of the earth signified the destruction was over and he was confused by the lack of ringing in his ears an explosion would have bestowed upon him.

"Okay, _now_ I’ll agree that this is just a rock pile, sir," Sam choked out. 

Someone gave a pathetic attempt at a chortle, and Daniel thought it might just have been him. Mightily coughing, he slumped back down as his body starting re-issuing complaints. His leg throbbed, his lungs told him he was trying to breathe underwater, his head ached. 

"Funny, Carter. Real funny," Jack hissed, then groaned. "That was a little too close, don’t you think?"

Gathering the energy to raise his head, Daniel looked over to his grime-covered friend, who was clutching at Teal’c’s unmoving form. God, Teal’c. Intensely afraid the Jaffa hadn’t survived the exodus, he started crawling over to the huddled trio, right leg trailing slightly. Piercing brown eyes watched his every move and he tried to hide his weakness from Jack though he knew it was fruitless to do so. Sam joined his unsteady race, pulling past him and beating him to the finish line. 

"Uh, O’Neill, I think we’ve got a problem," Makepeace muttered as he finally made it to his destination.

Worriedly, Daniel blinked at the object the marine colonel held up for all to see. He didn’t recognize it, or understand what the problem was. Sam softly cried out, and he looked at her distressed face as she bit her lower lip and frantically dug around in her pockets. What? Still puzzled, he squinted back at the thing in Makepeace’s hand – a conglomeration of glass and twisted metal – and understood. 

"Damn. Carter, you still have the solution?"

Please, please.

"Yes, sir. It’s intact. But without…"

"Anh! Don’t say it," Jack cut her off. Daniel thought perhaps there really had been a loud booming explosion, because he could barely discern what the others were saying. He blinked stupidly as his friend turned to look at him. "Dan…you sure…inject…Teal’c…depends…"

Teal’c. Pivoting his eyes to the fallen man, Daniel thought he knew what Jack was asking of him but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t see. He leaned down, head contacting something soft and gritty. Invasive hands groped at his shoulders, pulled at him. He feebly fought to stay conscious.

Lost. 

~~~~~~~

He’d known it was pointless to ask Daniel anything even as the question flew out of his mouth but it was an ingrained habit. Any Goa’uld-related mystery was designated Teal’c or Daniel territory in his mind, and with Teal’c down for the count…temporary count. Jack swallowed a mouthful of dust, his stomach rolling. The emotional highs and lows of the past few minutes were beginning to take their toll on him, body quivering with nervous tension, and he just wanted the fairy tale happy ending. Now. That wasn’t so much to ask for every once in a while, especially given all the crap his team had been through. Easing Daniel’s slack frame down to the ground, he glared over to the hopelessly damaged syringe that Makepeace held.

"You didn’t happen to grab more than one of those, did you?" he dolefully asked, not even bothering to wait for the other man’s reply. Closing his eyes, Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced at the grit sandpapering his skin. "Carter, what do you think?"

When she didn’t answer, he dropped his hand and peered over to her. A flummoxed expression painted her face, so abnormal a sight he did a double take. There wasn’t time for either her uncertainty or his resultant shock. Shaking his head sharply, Jack hoped he wouldn’t have to do anything more to get her to speak. He didn’t.

"I don’t know, sir. Until you stopped me, I was going to give it to him orally anyway but if Daniel thinks there’s a reason not to…"

"You’re not really helping, Carter," he chastised.

"Sorry, sir. It’s not like we have any other choice." Carter brushed her fingers through Daniel’s hair, particles of dirt poofing up in a wisp that made Daniel look like Pig Pen from Peanuts; followed around by a cloud of nasties his whole life. He growled softly at how his brain had warped that image. His 2IC continued, "I doubt Daniel’s going to wake up for a while, and we can’t wait. Minimal first hand experience aside, Hephaestus didn’t really seem as…together as the other Goa’uld’s we’ve dealt with. Maybe that’s an advantage here. And, sir, Teal’c would want us to try this."

"Aren’t you going to ask what I think, O’Neill?"

"Makepeace, don’t take this the wrong way because I am grateful for all of your help, but I don’t care what you think." Jack paused, looking first to Daniel’s fevered face, then Teal’c’s terrifyingly still body. "Okay, give me the vial, Carter."

No way in hell was he letting his 2IC handle the task that might end up hurting a friend – that was his job alone. She silently passed him the bottle, which felt hot in his hand. Shuffling closer to Teal’c, Jack simply stared at his big friend for a couple seconds and took a deep breath. No time for doubt. SG1 was going home whole, damnit. He unscrewed the lid and slid a hand under Teal’c’s neck, tilting it up as if he were about to administer CPR. Taken aback by the heat banking off his friend, his hesitation evaporated and he tipped the bottle to the parted lips.

"Sir, wait!" Carter unexpectedly cried, her hand slamming on top of his.

"What?" he snapped, lancing his eyes at her.

"Hephaestus probably created the antidote for all of his Jaffa." She waved her hand around the small courtyard and the scattered corpses. "That’s enough for fifteen people."

"Wouldn’t more be better? Work faster?" Makepeace suggested. "The Jaffa’s pretty far gone; back home, if he were this sick a doctor would increase the dosage."

Jack bit his lip. Screw all these what ifs. He sure as hell didn’t want Teal’c to die but if it was going to happen, he knew the big guy would prefer they at least try this. Huffing once, he shook off Carter’s hand and inclined the vial to Teal’c’s mouth. He allowed a fourth of the antidote to trickle out before withdrawing it, setting the bottle down and massaging Teal’c’s throat to help the liquid down.

"Sir, I don’t…"

He abandoned his task to hold up a warning hand. "It’s too late now, Carter. Let’s just see how we can get these guys situated for the hike home. I’m not sitting around for a medical or retrieval unit."

"How will we know if this stuff is doing its job?" Makepeace asked.

Neither he nor Carter said anything, though once fleeting look at her told him she knew the answer as well as he. They’d know if it was working if Teal’c didn’t die but saying such a thing out loud came with the old wive’s tale that vocalizing it would jinx any hope of a positive outcome. Transferring his weight to one leg, Jack awkwardly rose to his feet amid an abundance of waking aches and pains. He resolutely ignored them, stiffly shaking out his cramped muscles and perusing the remains of the ruined temple.

"It’s like it just sank into the ground. There must have been a big detonation down there, sir. We were lucky to get out," Carter quietly said, moving to stand right next to him. They both stared at the crater and rubble for a good minute, then she murmured, "Sir, let me wrap your wrists for you."

Dumbly, Jack lifted his hands and saw the dust on his arms had coagulated into wide bracelets around his wrists. He nodded and absently swiped at the spots as if that would clean them. It was a little too late to worry about his injuries now, and they were minor. Unimportant. Turning away, he walked back to Teal’c and Daniel. Makepeace was still at their sides, though he wasn’t looking at them. The other colonel had his eyes fixed on the ruins, jaw clenching and unclenching.

"All that technology wasted."

The disgust was flagrant in Makepeace’s tone and it rankled Jack, though he himself had been excited at the prospect of new tools to have in the fight against the Goa’uld. It would have been all the more sweet to use their _own_ technology against them, but as far as he was concerned that had been a sidebar to the mission. The main purpose had been to retrieve Daniel and Teal’c and get them home safely because their value to the SGC outweighed any weapons that could be obtained. No matter the directive of the SGC regarding advanced technology, there was always a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

"Yeah, it sucks," Jack sarcastically commented, giving the other colonel a scathing look. "The really important stuff got buried."

Makepeace blinked at him, then narrowed his eyes as if gauging if his words held truth. It made Jack distinctly uncomfortable, a glimmer of uneasiness troubling his stomach. Wishing he could pinpoint the cause for his growing discomfort with the other man, he looked away. He stooped down and patted Daniel’s cheek lightly, just to determine how deeply the archaeologist was out. Getting a faint moan in response, he smiled briefly and turned his attention to Teal’c. He couldn’t see any discernible improvement in the faint rise and fall of his friend’s chest, and he supposed he should be satisfied with the fact it was still rising and falling at all.

"Sir, I think I’ve got something that will work to transport both Teal’c and Daniel," Carter said. He dazedly looked up as she jogged toward them; he hadn’t even known she had left. Remaining where he was, Jack cocked and eyebrow at her and she continued, "I scouted around some of the buildings that are still relatively intact and found a cart. It’s a little worn down but I think it will hold them."

"Great. You and Makepeace go get it; I’ll stay here."

They moved away quickly, leaving him to act as guardian over the ill men. Not that there was much he could do at this point, only get them home alive and safe. That was enough, and he _would_ do it. Dully gazing down at the still bodies, Jack’s eyes fogged over from fatigue and the angry throbbing of his head because of that damned ribbon device. Through the weariness, though, he still noted the positioning of his friends and smiled at their shoulder to shoulder arrangement. He didn’t remember putting them that way and, as hokey as it was, couldn’t help but take it as a sign the tide was turning in the estrangement between them.

He was still grinning like he’d just seen the most feel-good movie ever when Carter and Makepeace came puffing back, towing along a ramshackle wagon. Situating the two unconscious men was a bit tricky in the relatively small space, and he climbed into the rig to handle the head and shoulders portion of the maneuvering, and didn’t stop smiling during the entire process of gingerly placing Teal’c and Daniel in the bottom of the cart. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carter worriedly stare at him for a second, then her face softened in understanding and a smile of her own appeared. 

They ended up having to put Daniel on his left side, facing Teal’c. An arm flopped across the bigger man’s abdomen and he thought about moving it but took no action. Carefully skirting alongside them, his steps faltered when a low moan emitted from Daniel. He paused and eyed the archaeologist for continuing signs of wakening; it would be reassuring to have at least one of his friends somewhat responsive for the long walk back. Daniel’s eyes moved frenetically behind his eyelids but Jack wasn’t sure if that was because of a dream state or if he was pulling back to consciousness. Fidgeting around, the younger man made a few snuffling noises and then rolled as far onto his back as space would allow, landing right on Jack’s feet. He squatted down and touched his a hand to his friend’s warm cheek, rewarded by blue eyes cracking open a slit.

"Hey, Daniel." 

The archaeologist’s eyelids fluttered a couple of times, then he opened his eyes fully. A now familiar confused expression lit them, and Daniel croaked, "Hey?"

"We’re going home now." Daniel gave a whisper of a smile, followed by a frown. Jack knew exactly what it was for, and assured, "All of us. Teal’c’s still hanging in."

Listlessly, Daniel shifted his gaze around, pausing on Carter and Makepeace at the foot of the cart before landing on the man next to him, where it locked. 

"You should rest, Danny. He’ll be okay," Jack confidently said, believing that to be the truth.

"No."

"No?"

"No," Daniel repeated without looking at him. 

The archaeologist’s jaw set determinedly, and Jack knew there would be no arguing. He didn’t even try, expecting his young friend would stubbornly follow his heart, as always, and remain at Teal’c’s side for as long as his exhausted body would allow. Come hell, high water or Doctor Fraiser. Jack smiled over at Carter, whose face was more relaxed than it had been in the last harrowing day. Had it really only been twenty-four hours?

"Okay," he agreed, nodding though Daniel wasn’t paying any attention to him. "Okay."

Patting Daniel’s shoulder once, Jack slipped off of the cart and ushered Makepeace to join him at the head of the cart. Ignoring the uncomfortable pull on his tender wrists, he jerked the vehicle into motion to begin the slow journey to the Stargate. The path might be a bumpy one, filled with potholes and obstacles, but he knew they’d endure the detours and construction along the way. Though it might be a painful journey, he truly had no doubts left that Daniel and Teal’c would survive.

The entire team would.

~~~~~~~

Teal’c felt the soft warmth behind him and moved closer to it. Since his return to the SGC, he had had a recurring thought that the sensation was a familiar one and throughout his long, mentally unclear recuperation period he had attempted to remember it more precisely. His moments of lucidity were infrequent, however, and did not permit him to do as he wished. Uncertain how long he had drifted in and out of delirium, he believed it to be a considerable length of time, as he did remember several items that were of great importance. He remembered his bedside companions, who were always there during his brief moments of clarity, and that their countenances had drastically deteriorated from the first to the most recent awakening. If O’Neill was not next to him, Major Carter, Doctor Fraiser or even General Hammond was, all comforting in their presence.

The most important recollection was not of those particular friends, however. No, it was of Daniel, who had never been absent from side even when accompanied by one or more of the others. Teal’c had seen that his young friend was not physically well enough to conduct a continuous vigil, and remembered attempting to dismiss the stubborn man away. Each attempt was met with failure and each left him concerned and heartened. Worry had gradually superceded warmth when he noted undisguised expressions of concern from whomever had joined Daniel. The looks were not for him. 

Fear that his young friend was yet unnecessarily at his side was a more than sufficient motivator to ensure that, this time, he would remain conscious. Teal’c breathed in and assessed every part of his body and realized he felt well once again, though still slightly weakened. Swimming restlessly in its pouch, his symbiote made itself known to him. He found him in the strange position of being glad to feel it once again; he never thought he would have that sentiment toward the evil he carried, but his need to survive was reliant heavily on the Goa’uld that enslaved him. 

His survival was not an entirely selfish matter, though, and nor was it simply so he could continue fighting for the freedom of his people. Perhaps it was trivial in nature in comparison to his quest, but he knew he must also live for his friends. Though his memory of the events on Hephaestus’ planet was as imprecise as his days in the infirmary, he finally understood why the bed and sheets beneath him felt familiar – it was a wan reproduction of the embrace in which both Daniel Jackson and Major Carter had held him. The care they exhibited for him was all he required to know the same held true for O’Neill. And it was all that was crucial for his continued existence.

With that foremost in his mind, Teal’c opened his eyes. Blinking twice in rapid succession to clear aberrantly hazy vision, he turned his head to the right, where his friends had always sat. As he suspected would be the case, Daniel was slumped on a rolling office chair, looking pale, worn and thin. He raised his eyebrow in concern when he noted a patch of white gauze at the base of his friend’s neck, at the same time relieved to see Daniel was clothed in a hospital gown and drawstring pants and a blue terrycloth robe. Doctor Fraiser must have intervened and used her authority to confine the other man. She had not, it would seem, succeeded in forcing rest. He frowned. 

"You do not appear well, Daniel Jackson," Teal’c weakly chided.

"Gee, thanks, Teal’c. That’s a little like the pot calling the kettle black, so don’t be offended if I take it with a grain of salt," Daniel replied with a quick grin. "Think I can squeeze one more cliché in there? Jack would be so proud. Don’t you ever tell him."

Despite the flippant manner in which Daniel spoke, Teal’c could hear the fatigue in his tone. He ignored the playful words. "I am fine now, Daniel Jackson. You must not become ill yourself over my condition."

"I know, Teal’c. I just wanted to make sure, that’s all. You nearly died down there," Daniel conceded with a sigh. He averted his eyes from Teal’c almost guiltily.

"But I did not."

"No. No, you didn’t."

Teal’c didn’t speak for several minutes, simply watched Daniel’s face closely. He briefly contemplated inquiring about the worrisome bandage, then decided that information could wait. Something far heavier was on his friend’s mind, judging from the fluctuation of his expressive features. His heart tripped with anticipation for the words Daniel had promised to him.

"Remember how I said I needed to talk to you?" Daniel finally asked.

Teal’c nodded, but could not speak.

"I just wanted you to know. I’m ready now, Teal’c."

"Ready for what, Daniel Jackson?" He knew what the other man meant, but he needed to hear it.

"I’m ready to forgive you. I really do believe you did the right thing when you killed Amaunet. I didn’t before, but now I know you didn’t kill Sha’uri, Teal’c. Apophis and Amaunet did a long time ago." Daniel stopped and swallowed several times. Chewing his lip, the younger man stared down at his lap, then looked up. Teal’c was taken aback at the emotion pouring from his friend’s eyes. "I couldn’t live with myself if I couldn’t let go my anger. I never should have directed it at you."

The impact of those words was monumental, and left him speechless once more. He had not realized how _much_ he had needed to hear those words. Unconsciously, his right hand shifted on top of the bed and he closed his eyes. Teal’c started at a warm pressure to his forearm, opening his eyes to find Daniel had moved closer to him and had placed a hand on it. The younger man gave him a squeeze.

They sat in that position, and in silence, for nearly a minute.

"Thank you, Daniel Jackson," Teal’c simply said.

"There’s no need, Teal’c." Daniel swallowed his emotions, releasing his arm with a soft pat. "Now get some more rest."

"I believe the correct word is…ditto, Daniel Jackson."

Snorting out a muted huff of air, Daniel wavered a smile at him. His friend flopped a hand in the air, pointing to the bed next to him and said, "Actually, we’re roommates. I think Doctor Fraiser actually considered sedating me for a while."

Daniel blinked slowly, and he could see exhaustion asserting itself. Wearily, the other man rose to his feet, shuffled over to his bed and collapsed onto it without pulling the sheets back. He watched the archaeologist shift around until he was lying on his left side, facing Teal’c and still on vigil.

"I think I will go get some rest, actually," Daniel said softly, eyes drooping. 

Teal’c smiled and watched his friend succumbing to sleep at last. His friend. He was a lucky man. Daniel Jackson once described Hephaestus’ weapon as rendering a Jaffa human. Once in Teal’c’s life he would have found that deplorable, but as he thought of the strength exhibited by his human friends, he no longer found that an objectionable way to live. These Tau’ri possessed strength far more important than physical superiority. If it were possible for him to live as such, he would now consider it an honor to be only human.

**The End**

  


* * *

>   
>  © September, 2003  
>  I lost the big spiel I snagged from someone  
>  somewhere…so let’s just say I don’t own any of the characters, the setting, the Stargate, etc., etc. Much as I’d like to, that privilege belongs to others.

* * *

  



End file.
